Yozora
by CreativeKiss
Summary: Sequel to Masked Memories. Two years later, Hei has been missing for six months, and his wife, Sora, is not ready to believe the worst. Without any leads, she takes over his team and dons the Black Reaper's mask in search of her missing husband.
1. Dead or Alive

**Disclaimer: I do not own Darker than Black or any affiliations. Characters belong to respective owners.**

**-sequel to Masked Memories-  
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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE: DEAD OR ALIVE<br>**

Sora stood shivering anxiously at the _shinkansen_ station, clutching onto her ticket. Her blue eyes, gentle like the sky, retained their tears, but it was difficult. She had been married to Hei for two years now. As he had warned her, the Syndicate often kept them away from each other, but they saw each other almost monthly and kept in regular contact by phone. Sora was simply happy knowing that she had such a strong, handsome, thrilling man to love her. That was until six months ago. Hei had left for another assignment, and never returned, never contacted her. He was constantly busy and swept up in his menacing dealings with the Syndicate, but he never forgot to call, and the very thought that he would let six months go by without wondering how she was proved nauseating.

The station intercom buzzed to life, announcing Sora's train arriving next, bound for Tokyo. It was enough that she had not seen Hei for six months, but now her father was pressuring her about Li's significant disappearance since the wedding brunch a week after their wedding two years ago. That was how long Kanbimura had gone without seeing this upstart with the mysterious occupation in the United States. Though Hei made it a point to come home to his wife, he pleaded with Sora not to visit Kanbimura or inform him of his return because the young couple hated trying to lie to Kanbimura about Li's responsibilities. Kanbimura would always wonder why Sora did not move to the United States with Li, to which Sora would reply that Japan was her home, and then he would pressure Sora to have Li take a job with Miyabita and work locally. Kanbimura had even gone so far as to accuse Sora of falsifying the marriage to avoid her then imminent one to Nekozawa Kawari. He retracted this statement after Sora called him a monster and broke down in tears, but never were his suspicions nullified.

For the same period of time, she had not seen or heard from Mao, Huang, or even Yin. Shizuoka was not very far from Tokyo, and they could have easily placed a phone call and let her know what was wrong because something _must_ be wrong. At this point, Sora could not even hope that he was alive, but she wanted to find him, alive or otherwise. He was her husband after all, and she loved him. She needed closure, she needed to know whether to grieve or to search for him. However would she search for him anyway? That was why she had purchased a ticket for Tokyo, intent upon receiving answers from Huang.

Sora knew little about Syndicate operations, even though she was married to its most valuable assassin, the Black Reaper. The best lead she had in finding her husband was Yin's small tobacco stand in Tokyo, and she was not even sure if Yin was still using that pretense. She was refused contact with Yin or anyone else in the team for her safety; her strange life was exhausting.

The _shinkansen_ pulled up to the station, and its current passengers began exiting the cars. Sora waited until she found a free door and started toward it when a man in a white, button-up shirt and jeans crossed by her. The young wife's breath hitched, and she pivoted sharply in her flats, darting after him.

"Li-kun!" she shouted, reaching out for him. The man didn't respond until she caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder fiercely. He turned to face Sora, and she sighed.

"Is something the matter?" he asked. Sora shook her head.

"I just... thought you were someone else." The man smiled, narrowing her eyes on her pretty face.

"I'm Tamaki," he said, extending his hand to her.

Sora did not return the shake, but politely introduced herself.

"We can certainly acquaint ourselves, can't we, _Aozora_?" Sora had heard this one more than enough times.

"I'm married, Tamaki," she said quickly, turning to board the train. "Sorry." Their conversation was far too brief for the man to feel much dejection, and he continued about his way peacefully, albeit slightly confused.

Sora found her seat quickly and huddled next to the window, growing more and more impatient as time wore on. Shizuoka was not terribly far from Tokyo, but the ride felt as though decades ensued before the _shinkansen_ slowed to a stop at a Tokyo station. Spring had always been her favorite season because the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, but those cherry blossoms were forever linked to her father and the relationship she had with Hei, and of their first anniversary, when Hei had taken her to the hot springs. This particular bath house was surrounded in beautiful cherry blossoms, and Sora could still feel the warm of her husband wrapped tightly in her arms, and cherry blossom petals floating all around them. _That's when I saw the scars,_ Sora thought, reminiscing. _Fresh scars. So awful._

She released the hem of her floral-printed summer dress, which she had been gripping tensely all the way from Shizuoka, and adjusted her purse on her shoulder. She climbed out of the train with the first big swarm and hurried from the station as fast as she could.

Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. She had not been to Tokyo in a little while, not on foot, and not for anything other than gallery showings for her paintings and Miyabita business with her father. All of the familiar smells and sights completely flooded her conscious, and she had to stop a moment to compose herself. So suddenly, she felt like crying. Though tempted to take the bus or fetch a cab, she settled on walking the long distance from the station to Yin's tobacco stand.

Sora passed by the plot where the Saito Apartment Complex used to sit, her former residence before moving in with her father and then into her own home, and discovered that the complex had been torn down and replaced with luxury condominiums. She couldn't help but smile. _Miyabita_. Her father was close to owning all of corporate Tokyo.

After a few more blocks she could even pick out the rooftop of the building where she and the Black Reaper had shared their first intimate moment. And lastly, before reaching Yin's tobacco stand, she found Li's old apartment resting as bare and obsolete as always. Though it had never occurred to Sora to ask, it made sense to her that Li might still have been operating out of there to keep her safe, and thinking that way, she mustered the courage to climb the stairs.

Before she could reach the door however, a black cat appeared on the banister of the front porch looking pointedly at her. Recognizing the silver bell and purple eyes, Sora's soft face contorted with anger and confusion.

"Where is he, Mao?" Sora demanded. Mao sighed, leaping down from the banister and marching past her back down the stairs. Exhausted, she quickly followed suit, and he led her the short walk from the apartment to Yin's tobacco stand. Sora was relieved to discover that Yin was still operating there, and that she would see her friend at long last, and when Yin let Mao and Sora in through the back door, the two girls tenderly embraced each other.

Everything about Yin was the same, from her gorgeous, pale complexion to her otherworldly eyes and hair. The sleek silver was still up in a ponytail, as usual, and though her stare remained blank, Sora could feel her affection.

"I've missed you!" Sora exclaimed as an impatient customer got to tapping his foot outside, eager for his cigarettes. Yin said nothing, but turned to help her customer. When he left, Mao cleared his throat.

"Hei's busy."

"That's your answer?" Sora snarled. And quickly, she began to cry. Mao looked to Yin helplessly, confused.

"I... I didn't mean to- Why are you crying exactly?"

"He's dead, isn't he?" poor Sora wailed. "That's why nobody has called me, and why you won't say anything!"

"In all fairness, you haven't pushed very hard," Mao said defensively, creeping into a corner. "Look, the truth is that Hei is on an important assignment, and you really shouldn't be here."

"Do not tell me where I should and should not be!" Sora vigorously wiped the tears from her cheeks, leaving her makeup runny but otherwise decent. "Hei is my husband, remember? We are one now, everything that I do is his concern, and everything had he does is mine. If... if my husband is missing, then a piece of me is missing too."

"Sora, please understand," Mao tried. "You knew who Hei was when you met him. Or... that's not true." He fumbled, remembering how Hei and Sora had met those years ago.

Hei had been on assignment, woven into an elaborate trap by Sora's incestuous brother, Ichiro. He had lied to Sora multiple times about his identity, and Sora had known nothing of Contractors or the Syndicate or of Hei's team until much later. She had fallen in love with Hei as Li, then as the Black Reaper, and eventually has himself, as Hei, but the beginning of their relationship contained nothing but pretenses and facades.

"But you knew who he was when you married him!" Mao argued after thinking in through. "There will always be things that he can't tell you." _And it was selfish of him to marry you in the first place,_ he thought sadly.

"He's been gone for six months, Mao," Sora argued. "And you guys don't seem to be particularly busy as of late. What is so important that Hei would be gone for six months while the rest of you are sitting around here?" Mao grew incredibly silent.

"He's gone," Yin said solemnly. Mao hissed at her, irritated. "Missing." Sora spun around so sharply that her dress lifted, and Mao, settled so close to the ground, got a quick look at her blue panties.

"Pardon?"

"Hei is missing," Yin repeated. "I cannot find him." Sora's tears immediately resumed flowing down her face.

"You... you don't know... where he is?" she asked, gasping. Sora felt as though the walls were closing in on her, and everything felt immensely dark. _"All of this time?" _She backed up against the wall and slid down, clutching the bosom of her dress in a fist so tight that her knuckles turned white. Her purse slid down her shoulder and hit the floor, and looking up at the ceiling, she wailed. Mao didn't say anything, and Yin came to sit beside her, resting her hand on Sora's knee.

"Mao?" Sora begged, her face flushed. "Tell me he's not dead." Mao grew very stoic.

"We don't know for sure," he replied truthfully. "We just... we've lost track of him. But we've been doing everything we can to reconnect. Right now the whole operation is at a standstill." After a few sputters and hiccups, Sora looked to Mao.

"So there may be hope?"

"Hei is... he's certainly not immortal, but he's a strong Contractor, and highly skilled," Mao offered kindly, daring to come closer. "I don't think he'd go down easily. N-not while he has you waiting for him at home."

Many minutes passed in silence as Sora tried to collect herself. She thought about every precious memory she had with Hei, and how much she loved him. He had never given up on anything so long as she had known him, and he did things that seemed impossible if necessary. The more she thought about it, the more Sora came to realize that she could not yet give up on him, not until she clutched his cold corpse in her arms.

"I have to find him, Mao," she whispered softly. "I'll do anything."

"How do you intend to achieve something that a highly trained team of-"

"I am a woman," Sora said firmly. "There isn't a thing that I cannot do, especially for those that I love. Or if that isn't true, I'm stubborn enough to die trying." She wiped her tears away with a firmness of purpose and managed to stand.

"But Sora, you don't-"

"I'll need all the details regarding the case he was working on," Sora said. She turned her back to Mao and faced Yin, who was standing. "You can get that for me, can't you?" Yin remained still for a long time, then nodded.

"Yin, you can't!" Mao snapped.

"Mao," Sora said, turning back to him. The poor feline gulped, growing nervous. "I need to return to Shizuoka first and make some preliminary plans. Tomorrow morning around 9am, I'll expect you, Yin, and Huang to meet me at my father's main estate. Please be prompt; we are a family of businessmen."

"You're not in a position to give orders, Sora," Mao said, exasperatedly. "I admire your determination, but we take our orders from the Syndicate."

"And right now their best assassin is missing," Sora said. "Is your precious Syndicate one to cast off valuable assets?"

"They will if necessary," Mao replied coldly. Sora narrowed her eyes on Mao as she retrieved her purse. She reached inside for something, but did not draw it out right away.

"Say that you'll be there tomorrow, Mao."

"I can't make any promises to you-" Sora revealed a bottle of potent pepper spray.

"What about now?" Mao didn't say anything, and Sora took aim.

"Do whatever you- Ahh!" Mao hissed and meowed angrily as his eyes began to burn and water. He wanted so badly to tear them from their sockets in utter agony that he started rolling around on the floor hissing, meowing, cursing, and bawling.

"Yin, please make the necessary arrangements," Sora said, kissing her on the cheek. Then she stalked out of the tobacco stand without giving Mao another thought.

Once she was free of the tobacco stand, she could drop her act. Even with her determination, the fear that Hei might be dead was overwhelming. She hailed a cab to the _shinkansen_ station, too devastated to walk anymore.

_Hei... no matter what it takes, no matter the results, I have to find you. My lover, my hero, my husband... _

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><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

***shinkansen: Japanese for "bullet train".**

***aozora: Japanese for "blue sky". The man uses it flirtatiously referring to the color of Sora's eyes, while playing off of her name, which simply means "sky".**

**Please visit my LJ later for some brief notes on the chapter/story~  
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	2. What Does a Bun Say?

**CHAPTER TWO: WHAT DOES A BUN SAY?**

Huang and Yin, who was carrying Mao, climbed out of the car outside Kanbimura's main estate in Shizuoka. It was very modern, but set in stone with Tudor influences. A wrought-iron gate bordered the entire property, and from the gate's entrance, a long, winding driveway led up to the main doors. Thick greens and flowers bloomed all about, and even a fountain rested on the property, a grand lion on its hind legs with water spewing from its large, terrifying jaws. The guests all exchanged a confused glance, then Huang pressed the buzzer. A monotonous, male voice answered.

"Good day. Is Kanbimura expecting you?"

"Not exactly, his uh-" Huang started.

"Please make an appointment and return later," the man interrupted.

"Sora invited us here," Huang insisted. "We have an appointment with her." There was some silence.

"Ah, yes, Sora is expecting visitors," the man agreed after some time. Huang released an irritated sigh. "Please state your name and the names of the members in your party."

"Huang, Mao, and Yin." More silence ensued, and finally, the gate's doors creaked open slowly. Yin was already headed for the van when Huang turned back to it. He maneuvered the car through the gates, which immediately swung shut behind them, and continued up the path, surprised by the amount of wealth Kanbimura possessed.

"Remind me again how she talked you into this nonsense," Huang said gruffly, glaring Mao in Yin's lap.

"She didn't," Mao replied just as morosely. "She shot me in the face with pepper spray and told Yin to make arrangements. We're complying because we have no idea what she might do if we don't keep track of her."

"She could be a menace," Huang growled, slowing to a stop beside the steps leading up to the front entrance. They climbed out of the car again and approached the front door. "If we can, let's squelch this before-"

The doors sprung open, and two servants stood before them. Standing behind them was a very collected Sora in a long, gray cardigan, leggings, and furry, white house-boots. Huang, Yin, and Mao entered quietly, Mao under great scrutiny from the servants.

"Please remove your shoes," the servant to the right said, gesturing to a closet with cubby holes. One section was for outdoor shoes, the other filled with house slippers for guests. "The cat can have small booties tied over his feet, but if you're worried about him slipping, one of you will need to carry him at all times instead." Mao looked up at the man, wide-eyed and confused. He was surprised at Kanbimura's staff selection. He had largely expected tall, tan, European men in coattails, but the two men that stood before him were average Japanese men dressed in black, fitted clothing. They closed the doors behind the guests, locking it, and ushered them down the hall after Sora, remaining by the door.

"I'm taking you to our conference room," Sora explained, leading them down the hall.

"An in-home conference room?" Huang mused.

"Do I really need to be carried?" Mao whined, wriggling in Yin's arms to get more comfortable.

"Unfortunately, yes," Sora replied. The corridor they traveled along now was simple, with marble floors, pale-peach walls, and wall fixtures resembling old lanterns. Generally the mansion was very bright and warm, contrasting Kanbimura's notorious stone stare and business life.

Sora continued on silently until they approached the doors to the conference room. She let them in ahead of herself, then closed the door behind her. This room was official and quite cold, with a long table surrounded by chairs, one large window at the end of the room opposite the door, and white walls; no paintings, plants, or other decorations.

"Please have a seat," Sora encouraged, sitting down herself. "Mao, you can have your own chair for now." Mao rolled his eyes and hopped out of Yin's lap.

"Gee, thanks," he said dryly.

"Sora, we-"

"We need to be prompt about this," Sora interrupted. "I need information regarding Hei's case, where you last spotted him, etc."

"You aren't running this operation, Sora!" Huang protested authoritatively. "We take our orders from the Syndicate." Sora did not speak at first, just looked up at the ceiling uncertainly while she chose her words.

"You have to understand, Huang," she began, "What love is like. You loved once, didn't you? I suppose it's not right of me to demand, but if you guys can't help me find Hei, I don't know what I'll do."

"Sora, unfortunately this a business where feelings have no place," Mao tried.

"This isn't a business, Mao, this is my _real_ life!" Sora buried her face in her hands, fighting back tears. "Without you guys, my only other option is to contact the Public Security Division. I still have Kirihara Misaki's business card, she gave it to me after we worked out the kinks regarding... you know."

"They won't find him," Yin said confidently.

"Yin's right," Mao agreed. "They have not been able to locate or secure him all these years, and they rely solely on activity to find him." Sora pondered this, then stood and began pacing.

"BK-201..." she muttered in a mostly inaudible voice. "That's right, his Messier Catalogue number. Has it been... uh... What does it do again?"

"It... buzzes, essentially," Mao explained. "But that only tells us if he is actively using his powers at that time. Apart from that, his star ceased activity about a month after we sent him on his mission. That's how long it's been since we've seen him."

"Please... help me find him," Sora begged. "I know that to you, death is just an occupational hazard, but if you have ever loved at all, or if you liked Hei at all, you should want to find him too." Mao and Huang exchanged guilty looks with each other.

"It's not that we do or do not want to find him," Huang tried.

"Either you do or you don't."

"We want to," Mao agreed. "But it's not about what we want-" Sora stopped pacing and turned a vicious glare on the black cat. Her entire demeanor had completely switched yet again.

"Then get out." The guests all frowned, except Yin, who was naturally unfazed by most activity. "I'll find a way myself, even if it kills me."

Mao looked to Huang pleadingly. They had to do something, and fast. If it had been any other person in Sora's position, so willing to compromise their entire force for the sake of one team member, they would have killed her as their duty. Here they all sat, better equipped than anybody else to find Hei, and they were more than guilty for not having made a more significant effort before to find him. Sora was not afraid of her emotions; the wore them openly and boldly, likely one of her most irksome qualities. Mao had a hard time resisting as she stood before them glaring and sick to her stomach.

"So what do we do, Huang? We'll need someone to start collecting information." Mao began, relenting without his partner's consent. Huang groaned, rubbing his temple.

"That's right," he grumbled, also relenting. "We need another Contractor, our team is not fully functional this way." Sora sat down quietly and watched Mao and Huang think incredibly hard about how they might make up for Hei's loss in looking for him.

"Is..." Sora hesitated. They were already quite cross. "Is there any way that I can help? I'm likely not as strong as a Contractor, or other trained fighters but I-"

"No way," Huang interrupted. "You're strong-willed, sure, but you're an ordinary woman. You'll just compromise us further." Sora bit her lip, buying some time to gather her thoughts again.

"Please don't underestimate me, Huang," she said at last, startling the men from their thoughts yet again. "Hei taught me some combat techniques, and I have one of his blades as well. I can keep up in your clandestine operations; that's how I met you in the first place."

"Hei's been training you?" Mao asked incredulously. Sora nodded.

"And I... have one of his masks too."

"What?"

"It's from... I..." Hei's wife drew in another deep breath. "When Hei first confessed to me that he and Li were the same person, just before Kirihara and my father came to apprehend Ichiro on the rooftop, I snatched his mask off of his face angrily and..."

"All this time you've kept it?" Mao mused.

"Yes, along with one of his blades and the cherry blossom branches you used to bring." Mao certainly remembered those. They were neatly wrapped up with a black ribbon, and were the agony of Mao who had to travel in a cat's body all the way from Tokyo to Shizuoka. There were times when he didn't even bother returning to Tokyo because it was not worth the menial effort. The things he did for what he had then considered to be Hei's silly, high school romance.

"Perhaps Hei knew what he was doing, marrying you," Huang commented coolly.

"I also have that slutty jumpsuit you got for me, Mao," Sora added. The cat hissed.

"It is _wind resistant _and- Wait, why do you still have _that_?"

"For such an occasion?" Sora offered. "That and... your partner's a little pervert." She couldn't resist giggling, even on such somber circumstances. Huang's and Mao's faces sunk, and Yin's head shifted quizzically.

"Figures," Huang muttered.

"How about..." Sora began, "I take on a new persona, and while the ultimate goal will be to remain as inconspicuous as possible, at least I can be under the cover of the mask."

"You want to wear Hei's mask?" Huang demanded. "That ridiculous!"

"It is not," Yin said firmly.

"I don't think so," Sora agreed. "It's the perfect way to hide my face, and it might throw people off."

"It might also attract more dangerous attention," Mao argued. "Contractors fear and despise that mask. They know it belongs to the Black Reaper."

"Everyone knows that the Reaper is a man, though, right?" Sora continued. "They'll think I'm a pathetic copy cat."

"That doesn't mean that they'll spare you."

"But it will protect my civilian identity! I'm not privileged with an alias and I can't live the rest of my life on the lam as a false Contractor. I have to return to my regular life with this same face, provided I live."

"But-" Huang tried.

"It is not my intention to be caught so easily, but it's a precaution." Sora sighed exasperatedly and slouched over the table with a soft thud, hiding her face behind her arms. "Come on, men!"

"We... we have little options available, Huang," Mao relented again. Unfortunately they were fighting a losing battle. Sora was too stubborn, and too intelligent to fall prey to such lousy excuses.

"We need Hei," Yin said.

"Brief me, you guys," Sora insisted, sitting up straight again. "Where do I need to be?" Huang began rubbing his temple more intensely, unsure of where to begin or how fragile Sora, so raw with emotions, might take it.

A Contractor had committed a petty crime and surrendered himself to the regular authorities. After being tried and sentence, the Contractor was imprisoned for a brief sentence, all according the plans of his officials. Somehow he had completely escaped the notice of Section Four of the Public Security Division, as was supposedly the plan. Most criminals sent to prison are shortly thereafter forgotten; the Contractor and his team were counting on this. Using the help of two other Contractors previously imprisoned as well as almost a quarter of the prison guard staff, they set up an operation manufacturing toxic chemicals, their purpose unknown. Hei was sent into the prison in a two-part mission to recover information as well as at least a sample of the chemicals if he could get his hands on it. He was supposed to infiltrate as the Black Reaper after he acquired sufficient information and a location to retrieve the concoction from, but before phase one of the mission could be completed, Hei discovered that Ichiro was imprisoned there. After reporting this to Huang, he slipped off of the radar completely.

"Ichiro is involved in this?" Sora demanded, standing up from her seat.

"You're awfully animated, Sora," Mao condescended. "You'll need to adjust that aspect of your personality if you want people to think that you're a Contractor."

"I have no desire in pretending to be anything like _you_!" Sora snapped. Mao bristled and dove back into Yin's lap. "How is Ichiro involved, Huang?"

"We don't know for certain that Ichiro is involved," Huang replied, glad to have Sora's negative attention directed elsewhere. "He could be, uh... what are they called?" Mao began scratching behind his ear with his paw.

"I assume you are referring to a 'red herring'," he suggested. "That's probably Hei's problem. He got distracted by Sora's pervert brother and let it compromise his position."

"Hei would never let that happen." Mao and Huang looked to Sora, who was wiping a lone tear from her cheek.

"Sora-"

"I'll go pack my bag," Sora interrupted. "We can develop our plans elsewhere. My father will be home soon, and for now I'd prefer he not be involved." She slowly walked over to the conference room doors, and leaning outside she waved once for staff to retrieve her guests.

"We'll be back for you after dark," Huang grumbled.

"Please allow the staff to see you out," Sora agreed, nodding. One of the doormen approached a moment later and led the team down the hallway toward the front entrance.

Sora dragged her suddenly heavy feet up the stairs toward her bedroom. She had spent the night, and had brought all of her important treasures with her in preparation for what she was about to commit to. She remembered the look on her father's face as she forced her way inside with a duffel bag full of clothes. Kanbimura had imagined that Sora had at last given up on Li, but did not push the matter when she insisted that that was not true.

Somehow it had been easier to sleep alone in her old bed than it was to sleep in the one she was supposed to share with her husband in her own home. Thinking of Hei again, how much she missed him, dragged her right back into the pits of her personal hell.

Locking the door to her bedroom, she unbraided her hair and stripped from her clothes. She ran the water for a hot bath, and while she waited for the tub to fill up, she wondered how a female assassin should wear her hair. She thought that she would look more ruthless and sexy with it down, but she had also never functioned with a mask before, and felt like she might be compromising her peripheral vision further with her bangs in her face. One long braid down the back? She'd feel like Pocahontas. Two braids over her shoulders? Too innocent.

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><p>"<em>What about a bun?" Sora asked, looking back at Hei. He was sitting on the bed behind her appearing very disinterested and impatient.<em>

"_I'm hungry," Hei said blatantly. _

"_This is important!" Sora argued. "The way you wear your hair is a lot like how you wear your clothes. It says a lot about you as a person!"_

"_Shame for those without hair then," Hei mumbled dryly. "What does a bun say?"_

"_What?"_

"_About your personality? What does a bun say?" Sora paused to answer him seriously. _

"_A bun is a more... professional look. It says that you're someone who doesn't like to be distracted." _

"_Braids?" Hei asked. He was teasing her now, Sora was sure of it._

"_Innocent look. Most people associate braids with children."_

"_And if you left it alone?"_

"_You mean wore it down?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_It's a sort of sexy look," Sora mumbled. "Or lazy. Guess from there it depends on what you're wearing." Hei smiled wickedly._

"_And what are you wearing?" Sora looked at the dress she had picked out. Hei loved her tight-fitting, black dresses, and it was his first night back in quite a while, so she thrilled at rewarding him. _

"_A sexy black dress," Sora pouted, feeling slightly defeated._

"_Get dressed in five minutes or you'll have to go naked," Hei warned sternly, leaving Sora alone in their bedroom. _

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><p>Sora giggled, turning off the water and climbing into the bath. She did not want to be distracted by her hair, but her jumpsuit was probably the sexiest item of clothing she owned. By the time Sora got out of the bath, she had come to a compromise. The top portion of her hair was pulled back with a clip, but her hair hung freely enough to blow in the wind. Sora even committed to heavy eyeliner to get more into character, and while she was severely tempted to wear bright red lipstick, she opted against it, fearing it would smudge behind Hei's mask anyway. She was sliding the zipper up the front of her jumpsuit when one of the doormen knocked at her door to inform her that a black cat was hissing at the front entrance.<p> 


	3. Yozora, Night Reaper

**CHAPTER THREE: YOZORA THE NIGHT REAPER**

_Sora, thrilled to have her husband home again, leapt onto the bed she shared with her husband, offering Hei a seductive growl. Through the eerie, white mask, she could see Hei's eyes travel up the length of her body as she stood up on her knees leaning over him in the black jumpsuit Mao had provided for her those years ago. When she had first received it, she could not have imagined that Hei had loved it so much, but seeing the radiance in his eyes and the wicked smile on his lips, there was no denying Hei's pleasure in seeing her like this. She joked about him being a pervert all the time but she now had justification for it._

"_You know, I'll never forgive you for calling me an 'otaku with a fetish for masked villains', Hei, not after this," Sora teased, frowning at him behind the Reaper's mask._

"_Of course, you need a codename," Hei said, ignoring her. Sora paused and thought about it. She didn't really have any nicknames, not except for the occasional 'itoshigo' from her father and 'Aozora' coupled with every pathetic pickup line she had ever heard._

"_What about... Yozora?" Sora tried, using her deepest, most villainy voice. Hei chuckled._

"_Yozora- Night Reaper," he said. His wife began laughing so hard that she fell on top of him in a fit, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. He rolled over on top of her and ripped off her mask. "Your identity has been compromised. You know what you have to do." Sora looked up at him with wide, childish eyes, biting her lip innocently._

"_I'll do anything if you'll only protect my secret," she begged. _

"_Anything," Hei growled in her ear before biting down gently on her neck, Sora giggling and squirming in his arms._

* * *

><p>Sora appeared in the doorway wrapped in a red trench coat, hiding her black jumpsuit in a bold fashion. She was carrying a black duffel bag in one hand, a pair of gloves in the other, and Mao immediately noticed the makeup she was wearing. He was amused to find that Sora would doll herself up for such a somber, dangerous occasion. She sauntered past him very authoritatively as if he had not been there in the first place, and he sprinted after her, the tiny bell around his neck jingling. She was a gorgeous, intelligent young woman, her beauty magnified in this new persona as a female assassin.<p>

"So," Mao began, clearing his throat. "Huang and I have been working on a codename for you. It's safer to operate that way; you know that 'Hei' is not your husband's real name."

"Of course," Sora replied coldly. Curiosity struck the cat, and he carefully approached his next question.

"Do you... know Hei's real name?"

"Of course." Mao rose an eyebrow, then sighed and returned to the important matter.

"Anyway, Huang and I-"

"It's Yozora," Sora interrupted, opening the back door of the van and climbing side. Huang eyed her curiously in the rearview mirror as she slammed the door shut again and stripped of her coat.

"You're still wearing your wedding ring?" he observed. Sora did not reply, only slid on her gloves over her hands and turned to look out of the window. Huang sighed and shifted the gear, reversing the van until they reached the main road and started on their way.

"Why 'Yozora'?" Mao asked, looking up at Sora.

"Hei and I decided on this name," Sora replied. Mao frowned.

"You two planned for something like this?"

"No, it was a joke. A weird alter ego of mine." Huang couldn't help but chuckle.

"So Hei really is a pervert, huh?"

"Yozora, the Night Reaper." Huang and Mao began to laugh.

"You know this isn't like the movies, right?" Mao asked, trying to compose himself. "You can't go calling yourself that."

"Of course." Mao flinched under Sora's somber stare. Somehow with putting on that uniform, her whole demeanor had changed. "Let's discuss the next plan of action."

"We do that in Li's apartment," Huang explained. "For now, let's have some quiet." Sora liked this idea, and she sat back in her seat, trying to ease her nerves. Yin, who was sitting beside her, reached out and took one of Sora's hands, holding it as though it were fragile. Sora squeezed back, leaning over to kiss Yin gently on the cheek. Mao frowned again and hopped into the passenger seat beside Huang. Something about Yin and Sora's relationship had always been bizarre to him, but especially now that they were hugging and kissing frequently.

Sora was not surprised to find that Li's apartment was as bare and dismal as ever before. While she recognized the importance of being able to clear out quickly, it was a wonder that Hei could succumb to sleeping on the floor with no mattress or blankets or pillow night after night. How could he possibly be sufficiently rested for his missions this way? _That must be the difference,_ Sora thought. _People who agree to live this sort of life... they come prepared for it. Am I prepared?_

"Here's the deal," Huang began after they had all taken a seat on the tatami mats. "We need you to be in as little danger as humanly possible, especially at this stage."

"I understand," Sora agreed. "What do you need me to do?"

"Are you okay?" Mao asked suddenly. His tolerance for this strange new persona was spent.

"What do you mean?" Sora asked, frowning.

"You... I just..."

"Forget it, Mao," Huang said. Sighing, Mao plopped down on the floor and let the matter rest.

"We'll go our separate ways from here," Huang continued. "I'll pick you up in a disguised van about three blocks away from the prison. You won't know which street until the last minute. I'll contact you with this." He handed Sora an earpiece.

"We're going to assume that for the most part you can hold your own," Huang added. "Whatever equipment you have, whatever skills you have, use them instinctually. Pay attention to your limitations. We can't have any mistakes!" Sora nodded, fixing the earpiece in place.

Reaching inside the duffel bag, Sora retrieved the Reaper's mask and blade. It had been a long time since she had actually held one of these, not since Hei had returned to her the night before her wedding. She hoped she would do this token of love justice in finding her husband.

"Anything else?"

"That's right. We will now refer to you only as Yozora." Mao replied, standing and stretching.

Sora stood and stretched. After retrieving the wire attachment she had brought, she fixed that to the blade before securing the blade to her hip. Mao and Huang exchanged a glance as Sora put on the mask, tugged tightly on her gloves to make sure they were secure, and stretched again.

"Do you know your way around town, Yozora?" Yozora nodded. She had once lived in this city after all. Everyone quickly disbanded from the apartment without a word to each other. Yozora took off down the alley without even glancing back, Yin stayed put, and Mao followed Huang's van out of the alleyway and then diverged at the street, each one headed for the same destination.

Inside, Sora was scared, but Yozora had to be strong for Hei. She now had a reputation to build and uphold as a masked assassin, and in the world of Contractors, she would likely be mistaken for one as well. Her hope was that wearing the Black Reaper's mask, others would therefore associate the two and be less inclined to interfere. The idea that the opposite might occur, that they would despise her with equal hatred for her affiliation with the Reaper, was also plausible.

Wandering down the alleyways, Yozora kept close to the wall and kept her head low. She concentrated on listening to the things around her because it was harder to see, and soon, her ears adjusted to all of the commonplace noises, such as the whirring of cars passing by, the splash of her shoes through the light puddles, and hum of voices in the distance, and her mind eliminated them from her consciousness.

At the end of the current alley, Yozora set her back to the wall and surveyed the dark street revealed to her. It was incredibly quiet, an avenue full of businesses closed down for the night. There was no obvious activity, no lights lit except for dim streetlamps that bathed their immediate surroundings with a fuzzy, unreliable stream. Carefully observing these things, Yozora felt safe to step out onto the street and continue on her way, remaining cautious. She imagined a leisurely pace was necessary in order to abate any suspicions that might arise. Would anyone even care? In a city, a country even, full of gothic and lolita street fashion, otaku, and cosplay enthusiasts, would anyone even flinch at a masked figure?

Just when Yozora had nearly tired of her dull walk about the town, her earpiece buzzed to life. Her instructions were simple. A free prison van would be passing down a nearby street in three minutes. As a daily routine, the driver and attendant would stop at a liquor store for a couple of snacks. During that time, a roughly two minute stop, she and Mao were to enter the van quietly and hide themselves until they entered the prison. Yozora agreed to the plan, but inside she was suddenly horrified. Huang had specifically told her that he would be driving the disguised van, not that she and Mao would be hiding away in one being operated by prison staff.

She did not have time to waste brooding, however. She immediately broke into a run to meet her three minute requirement. That was how long she had to catch up to the van, and two minutes after that to stow herself away inside. Mao's agility as a cat must have been unparalleled. He would likely arrive before she could.

Rounding the corner at the end of the street, Yozora drove her heels into the pavement, aware that she had already caught up with the van. It had briefly stopped at a sign, and was continuing on toward a main street, at the corner of which was a small liquor store. Yozora waited in the dark against a building for the van to pull into the parking lot, and noticed Mao trotting along a wall across the street. She slowly followed after him.

They entered the parking lot just as the two men disappeared behind the liquor store doors. The front of the store was flooded in bright light, and Yozora and Mao had to approach the van carefully so as not to attract attention of others on the main street that the storefront faced.

Yozora took hold of the handle for the back doors of the van. It was unlocked, and they gave way to her immediately, swinging open. Mao leapt in without word, and Yozora followed, having a harder time closing the doors behind her. At last she relented and left them open.

"What are you doing?" Mao demanded. "Close the doors!"

"Be quiet, Mao," Yozora said, ignoring him. "Tuck yourself behind these seats." She did so as well, and loosely tossed a large, burlap sack she had founded folded beneath the front passenger seat over the two of them. Mao wanted to hiss, but the voices of the driver and attendant were audible in the parking lot. They climbed into the van, and the driver immediately noticed the open doors.

"What the hell?" he said, staring in disbelief at his rearview mirror. His companion spun around in his seat, also puzzled.

"There's not enough wind for that," he mumbled. "Nobody's back there, either."

"Maybe somebody thought there was something of value in here," the driver suggested, climbing back out of his seat. He walked around and closed the van doors, then returned to the wheel, and they were off. Yozora smiled behind her mask beneath the burlap sack, and Mao rested a proud paw on her hand to reassure her. Yozora was new to this world, and she was far less skeptical of everyone and everything. Her lack of suspicions could make her more daring to do things that other Syndicate members would painstakingly avoid for one reason or another.

It was a short drive to the prison, but Mao and Yozora were delayed by the driver and partner, who sat back to enjoy their beers and chips. Either they were still on break, or they were abusing the fact that likely no one was paying much attention to their whereabouts. Yozora's legs were starting to cramp, so she subtly stretched them out, but the endless wait was crushing in more ways than one. With time, both men climbed out of the van, and Yozora and Mao thought they had awarded enough time for them to have disappeared so that they could relieve themselves of their cramped positions beneath the seats. After stretching, they climbed over to the passenger's and driver's seats so that they could escape. However, the driver was still standing in front of his door. _Damn it_, Mao thought angrily.

The driver opened his door immediately. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, grabbing Yozora by the wrist and attempting to tug her out of the van.

Yozora did not respond, and resisted. Glancing up, she took note of the handle above the door that is used to help one climb into their seat, and she took hold of it with her left hand. Jumping up, she shoved her foot in the driver's face, causing him to stumble back and cry out in agony. His partner suddenly appeared, and tried to block her in again. Mao leapt out and began to tear his face with his claws, buying Yozora some time to step out and better her position to fight.

"What the hell are you, Catwoman?" one yelled, taking a moment to recuperate. It was the driver, trying hard to pull himself back up to his feet. Yozora did not waste words replying to this insult, but instead went for the one Mao had abandoned.

The partner made a swing at her with his left fist, but Yozora ducked and punched him in his testicles. Brute strength was not going to be her advantage; she was a woman after all. _I have to be one step ahead,_ Sora recited in her head,_ I have to employ both technique and the element of surprise. _She and Hei had practiced this well over a hundred times.

The man keeled over, his eyes watering, and Yozora turned to the next guy. He had reacquired his sense and started charging toward her. She blocked his fist, taking hold of his arm and sliding into position, her back to his stomach. With her left arm, she elbowed him hard in his gut, then took his arm in both hands and flung him over her shoulder and on top of his companion. Both men cried out in pain. Mao stared up at Yozora wide-eyed. She was doing great.

The partner, crushed beneath the driver, was already out cold, but the driver still stirred with life. He groaned and winced, the pain trembling right down his spine. Yozora, closing her eyes to spare herself, kicked him quickly in the head. It was a weak kick, but it served its purpose, as she had hoped, and the driver also blacked out.

"So we're in," Yozora said with an exhausted sigh. "Now what?"


	4. Family Reunion

**CHAPTER FOUR: FAMILY REUNION**

Yozora and Mao quickly surveyed their surroundings to ensure they were alone. They were in an enclosed loading garage full of similar vans, police vehicles, and trucks for large cargo. It was completely vacant, with a light breeze passing through down the incline that lead to the yard.

They turned to the bodies. They needed to dispose of them to reduce the risk of alarm. There was no telling how long the men would remain unconscious either. Yozora silently contemplated whether or not she could lift them. She decided she had little choice but to try anyway. She opened the van's side door, and turned to the driver, lying unconscious at the top of the pile. Lifting with her knees, she positioned her arms beneath the armpits of the driver, the dead weight agonizing her back, and she managed to drag him over to the van. Resting the top half of his body inside, she lifted in his legs next and then awkwardly rolled him. He ended up in an uncomfortable-looking heap tucked in between the front passenger seat and back seats, but she couldn't be concerned with that now. Repeating the same exhausting maneuver, she got the other man into the van, however, he was sprawled out across the back seats.

"We ought to contact Huang, right?" Yozora asked Mao, panting. Mao did not at all envy her in that moment.

"First, we're safer using ME on these men," he suggested, still listening intently for any unwelcome visitors. "If they wake up and decide to sound the alarm, we could be in big trouble." Yozora nodded.

With van operators' minds swiped, Yozora and Mao reported to Huang.

"Where are you now?" he asked calmly.

"We're in what appears to be a loading garage," Mao explained. "There are a lot of cargo vehicles and empty boxes strewn about, but the place is quiet."

"And the men?"

"Subdued."

"How are you going to enter the prison?" Huang inquired next.

Yozora was already walking calmly about the garage, identifying all possible entrances. There were four doors through which one could enter, as well as a loading elevator, and lastly, a stairwell for fire emergencies. The door was sealed off with a standard lock, seemingly meant for an ordinary key. To Yozora it appeared such an odd choice for a prison entrance, even one meant for emergencies. Anyone could find a means of breaking in or out with a lousy lock such as this. Turning to Mao, she nodded toward the door, and drew her blade from her belt as he informed Huang of their entrance strategy.

"Alright, familiarize yourselves with the layout and report back," Huang ordered.

"Got it," Mao said, their conversation ending. He looked to Yozora.

"How are you going to break it?"

Yozora did not respond. She took the blade and held it in both hands close to her body, below her breast, and charged the lock like an assassin. She jammed the blade through the keyhole, it tearing through the metal as though it were putty. She then stepped back and pressed her foot to the handle, driving the blade through further. When she removed her foot, the door swung open freely of its own accord, and Yozora forcefully tugged at the blade to loosen it from the torn lock. It was harder to retrieve the blade than to drive it in in the first place, but she managed to free it, and held the door open for Mao, who rose a skeptical eyebrow before proceeding.

The stairwell was dark and made of concrete, with concrete walls surrounding them. It possessed no lighting of its own, but on the left wall, the top portion was open, but sealed by bars, giving them a clear view of the loading, packaging, and storage area, and the factory-like lighting soared into the stairwell. Yozora lifted Mao to get a better look at the loading floor.

There were boxes stacked upon boxes, and staff members were milling about in coveralls and gloves, opening, unpacking, sealing, and labeling. There were shipments of food to be sent to the kitchen, cleaning supplies, prison guard armor and weapons, even a station for supplies pertaining to defense against Contractors.

"Let's go," Mao said. Yozora continued to carry him up the stairwell. The stairwell wove around a corner and continued upward, giving them view a of a new room, the laundry room. Bed clothes, prison jumpsuits, and staff uniforms were being washed and steamed. After long, though they could not see it, Yozora and Mao knew they were near the kitchen because they could smell the preparations for the morning's breakfast ongoing.

The stairwell stopped at a landing and then went down four steps to a set of doors. Yozora pressed herself against the doors and peered through the narrow, rectangular windows, holding Mao higher so that he could take a look as well.

"Looks like a rec. room," Mao muttered.

"It's so quiet," Yozora said, observing the dark, eerie room. It was packed with tables and had television sets about the room and card decks scattered about. "And the stench." She backed away from the doors and leaned against a wall in the stairwell. Mao shifted in her arms and looked up at her quizzically.

"Um, the disinfectant?" he asked. Yozora sighed, frowning playfully behind the Reaper's mask.

"It reeks of revenge," she explained. "It's nauseating."

"I guess... I guess the feeling is rather overwhelming," Mao agreed. He was not much of a philosopher, though he sometimes found it puzzling to think of Sora as one. "You know, there's something I really want to see."

"Oh?" Mao leapt out of Yozora's arms and onto the floor, looking up at her.

"The building in which they keep the Contractors." For whatever reason, it had not occurred to Sora that the Contractors would have to go somewhere after being arrested by the Public Security Division. She certainly had not expected them to be kept in a standard prison. She wasn't sure she even wanted to see Contractors yet. She had such nasty memories of her former encounters with them, and the thought of seeing more, or discovering more despicable powers, very quickly destroyed her confidence.

"Let's just take things one at a time," she muttered, peering through the rectangular windows leading to the recreation room. "There's no one patrolling and this is our only entrance from here. Shall we go in?" Mao thought he could hear the distress in her voice.

"Well, try the door." Yozora reached for the handle and pulled, the door resisting her. She glanced down at Mao.

"Should we break this door in too?" Mao shook his head.

"Let's not risk an alarm," he muttered. "Why don't we head back to the loading garage and enter through the storage facility. We'll have to be very careful not to be seen, however." Sora rolled her eyes. To her, it appeared that breaking in a door was less of a danger than trying to slink past multiple employees unloading boxes in the storage room. Even so, she put her trust in this Contractor looking up at her with purple eyes and followed him back down the stairs toward the loading garage.

Once they reached the loading garage, they cautiously cracked the unlocked door open and peered inside. The bustling had died down, and there were only a few workers tossing boxes into corners to clear walking space. The room was divided into rows with long tables used for sorting imports, and nothing more.

"What if we crawl under the tables?" Yozora asked in a hushed whisper, glancing back to make sure no one was entering the garage. Mao shifted a bit in her lap, or rather, what portion of it was available to him as she rested on one knee with her shoulder pressed against the wall beside the door.

"It's as good as any other option we have," Mao replied, his eyes scanning the room. "Here's a good opportunity. Get low, and move quickly!" He was about to leap out of Yozora's lap when she grabbed hold of his collar and removed it from his neck, tucking it tightly in the bosom of her jumpsuit. Mao wasted no time inquiring why she had done such a thing, but leapt through the door and dove under a table stealthily.

Yozora crept inside next, closing the door quietly behind her from her crouched position on the floor. She crawled on her hands and knees as quickly as she could manage while watching careful to make sure none of the four remaining employees took note. Once she slithered under a table, she followed Mao along the pathway of sorts formed by the table legs. At the end of the long row of tables, they hesitated. The remained silent, pondering what they might encounter once they tried the door.

It was likely that the door led to a hallway, but equally likely that the door opened to the next room, whatever that may be, and they would be trapped. They could not take time to spy into the next room because of the employees wandering about in the room they were currently in. Yozora leaned in close to Mao.

"We have to chance it," she said in a soft whisper. Mao almost had not heard her. Just as they readied themselves to climb out from under the table, an employee headed for the door and opened it, exiting the room. Yozora was mostly positive that the dark expanse beyond the door was in fact a sole hallway, much to her relief.

Peeking her head out from under the table to ensure no one was facing that direction, she darted from beneath the table and disappeared behind the door, Mao at her feet. Footsteps softly sounded on the floor ahead, and they seemed to be approaching, so Yozora and Mao then took to a dusty closet full of brooms, packing supplies, and old pieces of cardboard boxes. The hallway cleared, and the door to the storage room clicked shut. Yozora released the large breath she had been holding in, relieved.

"What a headache," she sighed, stretching. Mao, despite his great fondness for Hei, could not peel his eyes away from Sora's slender, well-built body. It was not until she sauntered past him authoritatively that Mao shook himself awake and continued after her.

"Where are the guards in this place?" Yozora asked.

"Probably where it counts," Mao suggested. "Figures that nighttime, when most bad things happen, is a difficult time in the prisons."

"I don't know what to say to that."

They managed to find a large pillar in the recreation room that they scaled to reach the network of scaffolding at the ceiling. From there they were able to wander about the prison inconspicuously. As Mao had suggested, many of the guards had congested the prison cells, offices, and surrounding areas. The wardens' offices in each block were occupied but quiet, and after acquiring a general understanding of the main building's layout, they returned worked their way from cell block to cell block in an effort to pick out any suspicious characters.

"Ichiro is held here, isn't he?" Yozora demanded suddenly as she and Mao sat in a dark corner.

"Yes, why?"

"I want to see him."

"Are you crazy?" Mao asked, eyes widened with astonishment. "You can't possibly miss-"

"No."

"Well then why would you want to see him?"

"He might have seen Hei," Yozora explained stoically. She sounded a lot like Yin now. Mao understood the hesitation and discomfort she felt.

"So in actuality, you do not want to see him," he said. "You feel that you must in case he has something to do with Hei's disappearance."

"Obviously," Yozora said. "I don't think he's in this building though."

"Oh?"

Yozora turned to him silently, and Mao imagined an irritated look upon her unblemished face.

"Well, Contractors are kept in a separate building on the grounds," Mao tried. "He's not a Contractor, but they may keep criminals involved with Contractors there as well."

"I don't want to waste my time," Yozora said, standing. She started off down the scaffolding. Mao followed her.

"Where are we going?" he asked, careful to whisper now that they were moving about. He did not want to attract attention from the guards.

"Warden's office. I'm not sure how yet, but I want to look at his records."

"We'd need a stroke of luck," Mao said. "We can't get access to his records while he's still in his office." Yozora stopped walking.

"Blocks are listed A to E in this building," she mumbled, deep in thought.

"So?"

"Death row inmates are kept in the last block, right?"

"Maybe?"

"And since Contractors are in a separate building, let's investigate block D." Mao rolled his eyes.

"Maybe we should contact Huang instead," he said, chuckling. "We have Yin for a reason."

Yozora reserved the right to roll her eyes at Mao after discovering that her assumption had in fact been correct. Ichiro was kept in block D with other criminals involved in crimes related to Contractors and dolls. This cell block was kept on an opposite end of the main building, away from other prisoners, and the walk was time-consuming.

"Cell number..." Yozora mumbled, counting off the cells as they wandered through the block along the scaffolds. She froze suddenly, and her breath hitched. Mao's eyes scanned the cells, and in a brief moment he caught sight of Ichiro as well.

As Mao remembered him, Ichiro possessed a full head of thick, black hair, much like his father. However, the prisoner before them, sitting upright in his bed while staring at a book with only the light from the dimly lit corridor to aid him, had short hair, buzzed off, as well as a short but obvious beard.

Sora swallowed hard, forcing Hei into thought. She remembered the feeling of his lips on her forehead, the warmth of his firm embrace, the teasing smile on his face as he urged her to hit him, and thinking of all those things, she realized that she was too strong now to be afraid. He had trained her to defend herself for this very purpose, and she was fighting for Hei now. She stormed across the scaffolding, voiding herself of emotion, and when the patrolling guards had convened at the end of the corridor near the warden's office, she leapt down from the scaffolding and into Ichiro's cell. Ichiro's eyes shifted up at her, and his body jolted briefly, but his face showed hardly a sign of life.

"If it isn't Mrs. Reaper," he said, instantly recognizing her. Mao decided to watch from above as Yozora drew her blade as a threat.

It was obvious to Sora that prison life had punished him well. At first, the sight of his dark, puffy eyes and aged skin had her frozen with uncertainty.

"Perhaps you know where my husband is," she managed to utter, her voice cold.

"I suppose it figures that the wife of a Contractor could become so callous to the world around her," Ichiro observed loosely. Sora watched his eyes scan her body thoroughly as though he planned to store the image away for later. "I remember this."

"This?"

"This jumpsuit," Ichiro explained. "The last outfit I saw you in before father had me arrested."

"You had yourself arrested," Yozora retorted. Ichiro leaned forward.

"Make no mistake, my love," he began, "I regret nothing." Sora felt her stomach churn.

"Where is BK-201?"

"You don't want to catch up?" Ichiro asked in a sickly tone, leaning back in bed. "Does he make you happy?" Sora refused to respond, launching her wire toward the scaffold and securing it tightly. Ichiro stood up angrily.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sora!" he hissed. "I despise that _thing_, but I love you. I dream of you every day and night. I thought maybe someone was answering my prayers."

"You are unrighteous, Ichiro," Yozora snarled. "God is not listening to you. Especially not in regards your perverse fantasies."

"What I'm trying to say is that while I hate BK-201, I have no desire to cause you any further anguish. His death would be a great benefit to me, but I do not wish for it, not if it is to destroy you like this." Sora said nothing, but began to rise back into the scaffolds. Ichiro grabbed hold of her leg anxiously.

"Don't leave me yet!" Startled and horrified, Sora wanted to scream, but she managed to gulp it back down. She planted her other foot in his face, causing him to stumble backward, and quickly disappeared in the scaffolds. Fixing the wire back to her hip, she continued back along the scaffolding network.

"I need a rest," she said softly, and Mao was certain that she was crying.


	5. Storming the Bastille

**CHAPTER FIVE: STORMING THE BASTILLE**

Hei swallowed another dry lump in his throat, his gaze empty and purposeless. He had been encased in a bubble of sorts, a large prism made entire of glass set on the platform of a machine that deactivated his supernatural abilities. His mind had been swiped, so he could hardly remember the events leading up to his capture, only a familiar, cold voice from the darkness which continuously threatened him even as a gloved hand slid plates of food and glasses of water to him.

His hair was now shaggier than he preferred to keep it, and rough stubble protruded from his chin. His body felt weak from the lack of exercise and human interaction, and his two meals a day, though they sustained him, did nothing for his insatiable appetite. Far more distressing than any of these things was that he knew Sora was home alone waiting for him, perhaps even hysterical. He thought about her everyday, and tried to envision her safe and at peace, but he could not. Hei could only imagine the horrible things that could happen to her should someone, his captors, make the connection between the two of them and kidnap her.

How had he failed? What had happened to him? He fought so hard to remember, but he only barely recalled how he had ended up at the prison. He recalled fragments of details regarding his assignment, which was to gather information and a sample of a mystery substance being manufactured inside the prison, but everything else after that was hazy.

Hei climbed to his feet and stretched. He tried jogging in place to loosen up his body, and to shake the weariness from it, but even so, his hopelessness remained. His weapons were gone, and the closest he'd come in contact with humans each day was the mysterious, gloved hand that slid plates and cups through a crevice in the glass box, a hinged door no larger than a shoebox. He also had no clue who might be watching him. When the voice spoke, it made him feel as though he were surrounded by a menacing echo, and he couldn't be sure how to escape. He had no weapons, and no idea whether or not his powers were merely rendered useless in the box or had been eliminated altogether. He felt sick.

"Exercising, are we?" the voice asked. Hei continued jogging in place, ignoring it. "You know, I'm running out of patience."

"So am I."

"I thought your comrades valued you more than they are letting on."

"You haven't made it easy for them."

"They get wind of a crucial, clandestine operation inside of a federal prison, and I have to make things easy for them?" the voice asked with mock amusement. "It certainly no longer matters. If they have not come for you in six months, you must not be as valuable an asset as I took you for."

"Have you ever heard of such a thing?" Hei mused. "No one values Contractors. Either I serve my purpose or I fail. They have likely already replaced me."

"In light of that, I've decided to dispose of you," the voice explained. "I may be in need of that space soon."

"Why all of a sudden?" Hei demanded, keeping his voice calm.

"A suspicious Contractor is milling about the prison scaffolds," the voice replied. "A vixen playing homage to the Black Reaper." Hei's breath hitched, but he tried to mask his concern. _Sora!_

Intent upon keeping up his charade, he asked coolly, "What does a copycat have to do with me?" The voice chuckled, its echo bouncing off of the walls and diving into Hei's skull.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you," it replied. "If you want to waste time trying to convince me that she is not your ally, you'll only further convince me that she is." Hei said nothing. He could not approve of him doing something to harm his wife, but the mysterious voice's suspicions were correct. No matter what Hei did or said, Sora was about to be in tremendous danger.

"What are you planning on doing to her?" The voice chuckled again.

"Would you like to observe?" he asked. Hei frowned, but watched as a large, theater like screen lowered from the ceiling. Had it not already been illuminated with power, he would not have been able to see it in the darkness. Soon, surveillance footage of the prison appeared on the screen, different camera views separated into blocks.

"The prison staff are ignorant," the voice explained. "I had cameras set up in the scaffolding where your copycat has been hiding. She's a cute little thing. Long, limber, proper curves; you sure you don't want to lay claim to her?" Hei still did not respond, but the sadistic tone that voice demonstrated further intensified his nausea.

* * *

><p>"What should we do now?"<p>

"I get the feeling that Huang might want you to investigate the mystery substance as well," Mao said, watching Yozora try to wipe the tears from her face beneath the mask.

"I'm not a Contractor and I don't work for your Syndicate," she argued. "I'm not doing anything that doesn't immediately pertain to Hei."

"But-"

"Just get up!" Yozora hissed, standing again. "We have to find a way out of his building to the prison yard. We have to get into the Contractor block." Mao rolled his eyes and began following her as she headed for the warden's office.

Yozora growled angrily as she tried to crane her neck to get a view into the warden's office through the door. She pressed her body to the scaffold platform and tried to peer through the grates, but she could not get a successful view of anything from that angle or height.

"Contact Yin," she whispered to Mao, who was standing beside her head. Mao nodded.

"Yin," he called in. Upon receiving a response, he continued. "We need directions to the building in which they house the Contractors."

"The Special CA block," Yin responded, her voice soft and expending little effort. "You need to cut across the prison yard."

"Yeah, we need you to get us out of this building first," Mao explained.

"Yes." Mao looked to Yozora, who was sitting upright on her knees and staring at him expectantly. "Yin's feeding me directions. We should hurry."

Suddenly, all the lights in the prison shut off. Yozora immediately stood up, and Mao wove around her legs to assure her that he was nearby. It was now completely impossible for Yozora to see anything, and that frightened her. It appeared her best bet was to rely on Mao if it was not too dark for his feline night vision to function properly.

"Mao, can you- Ahh!" Yozora dropped to her knees again as all of the lights in the prison suddenly turned on, abruptly flooding the darkness with fluorescent lights, and a blaring alarm sounded. The black cat only just barely managed to jump out of the way and avoid being crushed beneath her petite frame.

"Yozora!" Mao shouted, his jaw agape as he looked toward the cell blocks. The false Contractor managed to look up at Mao, and after taking note of his horrified expression, followed the direction of his gaze in time to see all of the prison cell doors opening at once, freeing hardened criminals with nothing to lose. Without hesitation, they each abandoned their cells.

Soon the corridors were flooded with prisoners chanting and banging on the bars, leaping about enthusiastically, embracing each other, attacking each other, and overpowering the wardens and guards. Yozora went into total panic mode as some prisoners began the difficult climb to the scaffolds. It was a riot. Between the blaring alarm and the roar of victorious criminals, neither Yozora nor Mao could think clearly. It was not until prisoners succeeded in reaching the scaffolds that Yozora managed to get to her feet and break into a run, Mao following closely after her.

"Yozora! We have to get to the ground floor to get out of here!" the black cat yelled, glancing back to find the inmates hollering and chasing after them. Wolf whistles quickly followed, sending shivers down Yozora's spine. Little creativity was necessary to imagine what might ensue if they got hold of her. She took hold of the wire fixed to her hip and launched it at a lower beam as Mao, taking note, propelled himself into her arms. She jumped down from the scaffolds and hit the ground surrounded by inmates knocking down tables and flinging wild punches. Yozora knew that the time had finally come in which she would have to make difficult decisions.

Men callously reached out to her, bumped into her, and stumbled her. She even took a punch to the head that had likely been aimed for someone else. Yozora wanted to panic, but she fought back the desire, aware that any breath or energy she wasted would further endanger her. If she got caught in this crowd and was unable to break free, unspeakable horrors would befall her. Drawing her blade, Yozora mindlessly attacked anyone who reached out to her or attempted to approach. This was not about killing, or even mutilation. She had to demonstrate as much ruthlessness as possible while maintaining her primary purpose of escaping the prison safely. It was obvious that the building had short-circuited, which had temporarily deadened the security. What remained undetermined was the source of the shortage. Huang would likely make Yozora responsible for investigating that later, assuming it was not an average malfunction.

Yozora managed to reach a set of doors, and as she forced herself past men who were ramming their shoulders into the doors to force them open. Before she could step in to intervene, the men at last forced the doors open and everyone burst out into more corridors.

By the time Yozora and Mao reached the prison yard, it had already flooded in waves of inmates. Amongst the sea of jumpsuits, Yozora was the most conspicuous character present, dressed in all black with an eerie, white mask on her face and a black cat in her arms.

"Mao, what do we do?" Yozora asked, feeling the prisoners close in around her. "We're going to be trapped!" Mao could hear Yozora beginning to hyperventilate. Things were going downhill quickly, and there was no way that Yozora could confront a mob of incarcerated men on her own.

"Huang, we could use our strategic advisor!" Mao hissed into his receiver.

"Mao!" Yozora screamed, Mao wincing under the harsh noise escaping her throat. _Damn this stupid body!_

* * *

><p>Hei tried hard not to show his anguish, but he felt as though his heart was constricting in his chest. He could hardly breath, watching the prison flood with inmates and his wife, the warmth of whom he had not felt in months, surrounded by a raging mob. He couldn't hope for miracles now, but could only sit and await the terrible rape he expected to occur. His stomach lurched, but he fought hard to swallow his vomit back down. He feared an empty belly would only make him feel worse.<p>

"Worried yet?" the voice asked in a sickeningly cheerful voice. Hei had had enough.

"You know that she's a copycat," he snarled. "She's not a threat to anyone!"

"So you do know this girl," the voice mused. "How tragic. There's nothing I can do now."

"Sadistic freak!"

"Rationality and sadism are two completely different things," the voice said. "Behold. _This_ is sadistic."

Hei hung his head. He couldn't bear to watch anymore. He was about to lose the love of his life before his very eyes, completely powerless to assist.

"What the hell?" the voice suddenly exclaimed, and Hei's eyes shot upward to the screen. He released a heavy sigh of relief, for never in his life had he been more happy to see that familiar, white suit.

* * *

><p>"What the hell?" Mao demanded as Yozora screamed again in horror. The entire prison yard had been swept over in a massive chill, and all of the inmates were sealed in ice, frozen with their faces contorted in anger, confusion, and lust. Mao winced as Yozora's grip on him tightened, noticing a tall, blonde figure approaching in the distance. He could hear Yozora's heart thumping in her chest, and soon she dropped to her knees and drew her blade, her body's strength now drained from the mental anguish and physical exercise.<p>

"Don't come any closer," she said, but she was not speaking loudly enough to be heard. The figure came closer still, and stopped roughly six feet away, examining his handiwork by tracing a lone finger along one of his ice sculptures. He then removed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his coat.

"Well now, cat, where did you find this lovely thing?" he mused, lighting a cigarette. Yozora released Mao, and he, glad to stand on his own four paws again, leapt out of her lap and stretched before looking up at their savior.

"You know him?" Yozora asked, her voice wavering. Mao sighed, finally able to breathe.

"This is November 11, a British intelligence agent," he explained. "November, this is Yozora, the latest edition to our team."

"Don't be ridiculous," November 11 scolded, chuckling. "You can't expect me to believe that this BK-201 copycat is actually a Contractor. She's quaking with fear." Yozora could not even spare energy in being insulted, but stood.

"Why did you save us?" she asked.

"Hmm, now why did I?" November 11 mused, smiling at her. He arched his eyebrow at the random exclamations coming from puzzled prison guards, who were finally making their way out to the yard. Spontaneous human congealing was unheard of even in winter, and here Tokyo was only experiencing a slight chill in early spring.

Finished with his smoke, November 11 dropped his cigarette butt on the ground and snuffed it properly with his shoe, extending his hand to Yozora. Yozora stared at it coldly, then looked down at Mao for approval.

"He is your only protection right now," Mao warned. "You're living the life of a Contractor; you have to learn to think rationally." The feeble young woman reluctantly accepted November 11's hand, and he quickly tugged her into his arms, swooping her up to cradle her. Yozora did not trust him, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to stalk proudly but quickly out of the prison yard. All of the guards that usually manned the prison towers with rifles full of blanks had rushed out into the yard with the criminals, many of which had undergone November 11's cryogenic preservation.

Following the yard around, they reached a large gate for vehicles which was still unlocked due to the circuit shortage, and November 11, after setting Yozora back on her feet, managed to push it open with moderate difficulty. Sitting in wait was another police van, behind the wheel of which sat Huang. Yozora clenched her fists in anger until Yin opened the back door and reached for one of her hands.

Yin was not alone. In the front passenger seat, a black woman with startling blue hair and a pink coat stared Yozora down, and beside Yin sat a blonde haired boy in a hat, his stare distant. _It's another doll,_ Sora concluded quietly.

"What the hell is this?" the woman in the front seat asked crudely, glancing back at November 11. He gestured for Yozora to climb inside.

"This is what you were looking for, driver?" he asked Huang, passively insulting him. Yozora climbed inside and huddled between Yin and the suspicious boy, Mao taking comfort in Yin's lap. November 11 climbed inside as well, sliding past Yin awkwardly to reach the vacant seats in the very back of the van, and Yin closed the door behind him.

"You wanted to know why I rescued you, yes?" November 11 said smugly, leaning forward so that his warm breath tingled on the back of Yozora's neck. "Well, it's certainly not because of that body, my dear."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Just to be sure, the title is a reference to a famous event in history. The storming of the bastille took place during the French Revolution, when the revolutionaries overtook a prison (bastille), later imprisoning people who were in support of the aristocracy that they were revolting against. Lots of gruesome things happened in that prison, but I'm sure I didn't need to tell you that since the French Revolution is likely one of the most gruesome events in history. In any event, a bastille is a prison.**

**Inspired by that, the chapter title is focusing on the riot that breaks out after the prison security malfunctions and everyone is set free.  
><strong>


	6. The Chill of November in Early Spring

**CHAPTER SIX: THE CHILL OF NOVEMBER IN EARLY SPRING**

"I do not have to justify myself to you," Yozora snarled in response to November 11's inquiry. He desired to know what business Yozora had with the Black Reaper, and why their team had replaced their valuable asset with an incompetent human. April had posed a question of her own, wishing to know why Yozora was dressed, as she put it, like a slut, but Sora could just have quickly demanded April explain her gaudy fashion sense and blue hair, though she did not. Rationality told Sora that she did not have to trust November 11 simply because he had rescued her, nor April if only because she was rude and filthy, and that Huang, Mao, and Yin did not trust them either. She would trust no one. November 11 sat smugly with his blonde hair, proud smile, and obnoxious, white suit. To Sora, it appeared that he was far too impressed with himself. Did he think he was James Bond?

November 11 only chuckled and sat back to get more comfortable, exchanging a glance with April. It led Sora to recall that she was still thoroughly confused with April and July. Unlike November, in that last hour or so they appeared to have done nothing useful, and even now had little to say. April was not very ladylike in Sora's eyes, almost brash. Sora was expecting her to belch at any moment, staring at the six pack of generic-brand beer sitting on the floor at her feet. Everyone remained quiet for a while, each one staring coldly at the next excluding Yin and July, who had their gazes pointed aimlessly at the ground.

The van had been parked in a damp alley, and one by one, with ten minutes in between, they had abandoned the van and wandered off separately until Huang directed them to an abandoned factory sitting a few blocks away via earpiece. Mao and Yozora had the responsibility of collecting the MI6 agents together to direct them to the factory which produced more time consuming work. The sun was climbing into the sky at early morning, the clouds adopting a hazy, pink glow, and Sora's stomach ruthlessly reminded her that she had not eaten. Behind the Black Reaper's mask, her face was contorted from the stomach pain, but she insisted that her posture suggest a icy expression instead.

Now they sat in a circle on empty wooden crates, making Sora think of tea time with her mother when she was a young girl. Her mother had forced her to join her menopausal, aristocratic witch clan as they sat in a circle on uncomfortable stools, Sora urged to practice sitting up straight without the assistance of a proper chair. Anything that made her think of her mother often left her cross and snarling.

The factory was overwhelmed in a pungent smell of animal urine, and the sounds of rats and other mysterious creatures slinking about and burrowing into the walls and packing supplies was obvious. It was a standard factory, not in the least prepossessing and otherwise foul, making the location ideal for underground operations and nothing else.

Sora was feeling terribly distraught at almost being raped and at her failure to gather any leads regarding Hei's disappearance or whereabouts. She felt like she had wasted everyone's time, including her own, and had nearly paid a tremendous price for it. What the hell had happened in that prison? Yozora was masking her overwhelming guilt and sadness with bitterness, much to the irritation of the other members of the team and MI6 agents.

"Let's get introductions out of the way," November 11 said quickly, gesturing to each person as they were mentioned. "Here is April, another Contractor, and July, our doll. His surveillance specters are channeled through glass, if you cared to know." Yozora had been curious, but not particularly. Her concerns were elsewhere.

"You said you were going to tell me why you rescued Mao and me," she said instead, only holding up her hand mechanically as a silent acknowledgment of April and July.

"Yes, yes," November said, crossing his legs. "Let me start on telling you what I know about you. We have something in common. Naturally, you can assume we are intent upon the same thing: retrieving this mystery substance being manufactured in the prison."

"Why do you want it?" Yozora interrupted, already aware that she would not receive an answer.

"If you're not sharing, neither are we!" April replied harshly, furthering Sora's perception of her. Yozora did not even bother looking up at her, keeping her focus on November 11.

"However, I have my suspicions about you," November 11 continued, referring to Yozora. "I will assume that something has happened to BK-201, but I won't ask you what. Regardless, I only rescued you and the cat because a prison break would serve as a hitch. I have to do what benefits me most, and prisoners running free is an inconvenience to my operation." Sora had already assumed that the rescue had simply been an added bonus to the Contractor's initial intentions. However, one thing did conflict with November's statement, and it had not gone unnoticed by the analytical young woman.

"Why did you bother carrying me then?" Yozora asked. "You just confessed that you cared little for my safety." Huang rolled his eyes. What importance was there in a minute detail such as that one?

"That, I suppose," November 11 began, chuckling, "Must only be the man in me. And what man does not desire to heroically carry the damsel in distress across the threshold of security?"

"A false gentleman," Yozora muttered coldly, rolling her eyes behind the Black Reaper's mask.

"Where is the Reaper anyway?" April asked, changing the subject.

"We don't know, at present," Huang replied, much to the ire of Yozora. She bit down on her tongue to keep back her words. "We lost communication with him months ago. We're moving forward with our operation nonetheless."

"Oh no," November 11 said certainly. "You won't convince me that this ordinary woman is BK-201's replacement. It is a ridiculous suggestion, good sir."

"I don't have to tell you otherwise," Huang snarled back. "We've all got secrets, so let's just keep them to ourselves."

"You're the Reaper's lover, aren't you?" April asked Yozora bluntly, voicing a suspicion she must have had for quite a while. Yozora sighed, figuring the less she said, the better.

"It doesn't matter what I say," she replied, taking on a disinterested tone.

"So you won't deny it?"

"Neither confirm it." April exchanged a glance with November 11, who shook his head and glanced down briefly at his hands. He appeared amused.

"If it is true," November 11 began, "Then the Black Reaper is demonstrating his nature as a Contractor to her now, leaving her to be raped and killed by a mob of men."

These last words produced such a sharp pain in Sora's stomach that she felt like throwing up. She had an urge to yell and scream and drive a blade through his neck, but as her stomach churned, she realized that she had a far more urgent calling to attend to. She stood up angrily and marched off, taking refuge behind a stack of crates wrapped loosely in tattered plastic sheets. She removed her mask and gloves, the slight gleam of her wedding ring propelling her stomach contents up into her throat, and got on her hands and knees to vomit. Her body lurched and her throat stung as her belly emptied itself, and now more than ever she especially regretted not having breakfast.

She knew that she could not believe suggestions like that which April had made, that Hei had simply abandoned her for his own interests, that something out there was more important to him that she was. He had married her and promised to protect her, after all, and though in this day and age marriage vows were not nearly as sacred as they ought to be, she greatly valued the ones Hei had made to her, and she had faith in them. She would much rather believe that he had died than believe that he had so casually left her without a reason, or even a proper divorce. Hei was a better man than that, wasn't he?

Sora managed to pick herself up off of her knees, tugging a white handkerchief from the bosom of her jumpsuit and wiping her mouth. She dropped the handkerchief over her small puddle of vomit, grimacing before securing the Black Reaper's mask to her face and sliding her gloves back over her slender hands.

"Seems more of a burden to me," April muttered as Yozora returned, clutching her now thoroughly empty stomach.

"I need something to eat," she said. "And water." The aftertaste still lingered strongly, and she longed to free herself from it.

"We don't have time for that right now," Huang scolded, scratching his forehead. Mao sat up abruptly and, taking note of Sora's hunched stance and the sickening noises that they had all heard coming from behind the stack of crates, came to her defense.

"She needs something in her stomach, Huang, she's sick."

"What?"

"None of us have eaten in several hours," Mao argued. "Get us something to eat."

"And why should I feed you?"

"Forget it," Yozora snarled, eager to put something in her belly. "I'll get my coat and buy something myself. Give me the car keys." Mao looked to Huang expectantly.

Huang reluctantly handed over the keys, warning, "Get yourself something to eat, and some fresh air. Don't come back until you've calmed down, and bring something for the cat."

Yozora didn't ask, but she determined to bring back something for Yin and July, though she did not find herself feeling any generosity toward November 11 and April, whose cruel words were the source of her illness. Leaving her team and the haughty MI6 agents in silence, Yozora headed directly for the van. She was glad to find that her duffel bag was still available, from which she retrieved her red trench coat. She removed her equipment, including the mask, and gave her wedding band and engagement ring another thorough look before climbing into the driver's seat and adjusting the mirror. As she maneuvered the van out of the alley, she removed the clip from her hair, letting it fall freely.

Sora wasted no time parking at the nearest cafe she could find, and slipped into her trench coat before exiting the vehicle. She tossed her hair a bit to loosen it up, and used chapstick on her dry lips, quickly retrieving a wallet from her bag and marching into the cafe.

Huang had told her to get some fresh air, so she planned to take her time, even as she felt the clock ticking away. She recognized that they were still back at square one, and there was little that she could do for Hei at present, not until they investigated new leads, of which they had none.

"What can I get for you?" a sweet young girl asked, smiling brightly. Sora glanced about uncertainly, thinking about where she would like to sit. Before she could decide, the waitress added, "You're Kanbimura Sora, aren't you? Wow, you're so pretty!" Sora smiled weakly.

"Do you give autographs?"

"I'd like to eat outside," Sora said. "No autographs. I'd like fresh water in that vase there, a pot of tea, and two hard-boiled eggs with bacon and dry toast. Box an assortment of pastries as well, one of everything." Somewhere between the factory and cafe, Sora's manners returned, and she could no longer fathom returning in an arrogant huff with food for only Mao, July, and Yin. She largely desired to, however, but alas she could not, thinking of her father. The waitress was stunned by Sora's stolid demeanor, but she seated Sora at the table she requested and hurried off to get her breakfast.

Another girl arrived with a pitcher of water and bowed, filling the vase. "I'm so sorry," she muttered. "We just opened a few minutes ago, so we're a little behind. I hope the flowers are to your liking." Sora had not paid particular attention to the sorts of flowers arranged. Her thoughts lay with the water, making sure that Yin had access to her whereabouts.

"They're lovely," Sora forced herself to say, leaning on the table with her had propped up in the palm of her hand.

Soon her table was filled with the items she requested, and she quickly poured herself a cup of tea to fill her belly. She was dehydrated, she realized, and would need to buy bottled water before she returned to the factory. She had blatantly abused her body, and she needed to replenish it before she could try another hand at Contractor operations. Remembering her manners, she managed to avoid shoveling the food into her mouth like a Neanderthal.

After paying her way, she hoisted the large, cardboard box of pastries and started on foot toward a local mini mart in search of some bottled water and canned tuna with the easy-open, tabbed lids.

The mini mart was rather barren, much to Sora's disappointment. She noted right away that they did have six packs of bottled water in the front of the store, and she set one pack on the counter, inquiring of the store clerk where he kept the canned tuna. As she started down the appropriate aisle, a familiar voice called out to her.

"Sora, what is a girl like you doing here?" Sora mouthed an exaggerated "damn it!" before turning to face Kirihara Misaki, the chief of section four of the Public Security Division. She forced a smile.

"What do you mean by 'a girl like me'?" she asked as Misaki approached her. She was dressed in her familiar, navy blue pantsuit and glasses, her hair of similar style, and Sora assumed she was off-duty.

"This is not exactly a fashionable part of town," Misaki offered, shrugging. "I'm surprised you even remember me."

"It wasn't that long ago," Sora said, shifting the box of pastries to her other hip. Why hadn't she left them at the counter with the water? She watched Misaki's gaze travel to the large box of pastries, and she opened her mouth to speak before closing it again. Sora started as the section chief's gaze finally rested on her left hand, and she bit her lip.

"You're married," Misaki muttered, confusing Sora. "Congratulations. Who has the honor?" Sora swallowed hard, certain that an awkward conversation was likely to ensue.

* * *

><p>"Where the hell is this girl?" Huang snarled. No one had spoken much since Yozora had left. They had vowed to keep their secrets secret, and it appeared neither team had any leads to Hei or the mystery substance, leaving topics for conversation scarce.<p>

"She needed some space, Huang," Mao justified, though he was also rather anxious for Sora to return, if only because she was bringing breakfast. "Give her a little longer."

"Doesn't she have some sort of communication available? You all have earpieces, right?" April asked.

"If you contact her now, you might put unnecessary pressure on her," Mao rationed. "And besides, she's out in public. Don't risk contact unless it's urgent." Huang grumbled angrily. He didn't understand why they had to baby Sora. She was the one who had forced them into this mess in the first place. It was their duty to move on without Hei, and somehow she had wrapped them up in this ridiculous effort to rescue a Contractor who had been missing already for six months. If he recalled correctly, Mao had given in first. It was his fault.

"We have found Hei," Yin said abruptly. Everyone sat up and fixed their gaze on the two dolls, frowns all around.

"Is it at all possible that you could have found him sooner?" Huang demanded gruffly. Yin shook her head.

"My specters were disabled within a 400km radius," Yin explained.

"But you could have gotten us close?" Mao asked.

"No."

"I have a precise location," July offered. Now all heads were cocked quizzically. Mao was not even sure he recalled hearing July speak before, and now everything is happening so quickly. "He is entombed in glass."


	7. A Sudden Spark Fades to Black

**CHAPTER SEVEN: A SUDDEN SPARK FADES TO BLACK**

"You were engaged to Nekozawa Kawari, weren't you?" Misaki pressed when Sora hesitated to respond. At the mention of Nekozawa, whom she had left at the altar for Hei, Sora felt even more embarrassed and desired only to run away and hide. Curse her father's notoriety and those nasty newspapers. Could she keep anything private?

"I was, but only at my father's insistence," Sora answered truthfully. "I never loved him."

"Oh, so you are married to someone else," Misaki concluded, still expecting a definitive answer.

It had been a terribly long time since Misaki had seen Li, but he had expressed genuine affection for Sora, if she recalled correctly their conversation during their bitter lunch date over four years ago. She had glimpsed Li occasionally from afar, but hadn't the courage to confront him any longer, assuming that he was still in love with Sora. And now, even though she was certain Sora did not know that Misaki knew of her relationship with Li, she imagined that he was the answer that Sora kept dancing around.

"Um, his name is Li Shengshun," Sora replied, again juggling the box of pastries. The team must have been starving.

"And what does he do?" she asked. If Li had not found her mentionable in conversation with Sora, Misaki imagined that the polite thing would be to continue acting as though she had no idea who Li was.

"He works for a company in the United States; project management. He's hardly in town."

"For what company?"

"As the project is still under wraps, all affiliation with the company is being kept secret," Sora explained, this time shuffling the pastry box on purpose. _It's a hint, Kirihara! This box is a nuisance!_

"How do you hold up, being separated all the time?" Misaki continued. Sora sighed. As of right now, she was still nauseous from vomiting and rather shaken up, but that was not the answer Misaki would receive.

"We get by," Sora replied appropriately. "Marriage is about compromise and sacrifice. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that." Misaki frowned.

"I've never been married," she told Sora.

"It hardly matters. It's as cliche as it sounds," Sora said, offering a half-hearted laugh. Misaki followed suit, only to frown again as Sora started. Unbeknownst to Misaki, Sora's earpiece had buzzed to life. She had forgotten she was even wearing it, although it clearly had not aroused much suspicion from Misaki. And how could it? Everyone wore earpieces and headsets these days.

"Sora, we need you back here now!" Mao snarled. "Don't respond, just hurry back."

"Is everything-?"

"I really need to get going!" Sora said, pushing past Misaki with her large box of pastries. "I'm sorry we didn't get much of a chance to talk about you; we can catch up another time." Both Misaki and Sora were puzzled by that last statement. What was she thinking?

"If you're serious," Misaki muttered, following Sora down the aisle, "You can come by the Public Security Division. You remember where it is, correct?" Sora did remember. She nodded briefly as the cashier hurried to ring up her water and tuna.

"Then you can stop by... if you'd like." Sora looked up at Misaki and accidentally caught her in the eye. Sora resented awkward eye contact more than any other crime against human communication, but she could not retreat now. She'd have to commit.

"When my schedule clears up a bit," Sora agreed. "I owe you for-" Misaki's cell phone rang. Sora was sure that she now had a justified means of escape, until Misaki's panicked expression slowed her down again. _Huang is going to kill me!_ However, from Sora's brief association with Misaki, she determined that the section chief was not one to display emotion carelessly. The alarm in her voice and the contortion in her face presented an immediate concern, although Sora could not be sure why she should even be the one to care.

"Is everything alright?" Sora asked. Misaki took Sora by the arm and hurried her out of the door. _Why is she touching me?_ Unsure of this sudden complication of events, she allowed Misaki to drag her outside and around the corner, into a short alleyway.

"You haven't been contacted by BK-201 recently, have you?" Misaki demanded sharply. Sora drew back, frowning. Of course, upon consideration, Sora understood why Misaki was asking her. Misaki had agreed, against all common sense and law, to allow Sora her memories of the Black Reaper so long as cooperated with the police in imprisoning Ichiro and her mother. With that in mind, Misaki's question both excited her and terrified her.

"Did your division report activity?" Sora asked somberly. Misaki shook off her suspicions and nodded. "It's the first I've heard of him in a long time. I haven't seen him since the night on the rooftop." Part of Sora's answer was true, at least.

"That meeting at the Public Security Division is mandatory now," Misaki warned, starting to leave. This time Sora took hold of her arm.

"You have to take me with you," Sora pleaded.

"Absolutely not," Misaki said adamantly, snatching her arm free. She frowned at Sora as though she were crazy.

"I'm a flight risk," Sora whispered menacingly. The section chief bit her lip, scowling.

* * *

><p>"Where the hell is she?" Huang demanded, slamming his hat down on the ground. November 11 chuckled; he was apparently the only one who could keep a smooth mood in light of the circumstances. Everyone else was as tense as could be. Even Mao, who had spared her so much pity before, was irritated.<p>

"Contact her again," Huang instructed. "Tell her that we've found Hei and that she's better off sitting tight. We don't have time for this." Mao bit his lip. Sora would be devastated to receive news like that, but Huang was right. If they were going to complete their mission to rescue Hei, they had to be prompt. Sora would want that, wouldn't she?

"Sora, this is last call. We've found Hei and we're taking action immediately. We will update you later."

* * *

><p>Misaki stared at Sora quizzically as the young wife's eyes widened uncertainly upon hearing Mao's message. Her eyes darted from the box of pastries in her arms to Misaki's highly confused expression.<p>

"I'm going with you," Sora declared boldly, dropping the pastries on the ground. "Where's your car?"

"Damn it!" Misaki muttered, guiding Sora to her parked Porsche reluctantly. "This is very much against my better judgment, Sora." Sora increased her pace to keep up with Misaki, wondering whether or not she was making the right decision. What exactly would she accomplish once she arrived there with no team? Misaki's aim was to capture the Black Reaper; they would not be on the same team once they found Hei. Sora shook her worries off, seating herself inside of Misaki's Porsche. Hei would know what to do.

"I know that the Black Reaper is your muse or whatever," Misaki began. Sora interrupted her before she could continue.

"He rescued me from my brother, remember?" she pressed.

"Yes, I remember," Misaki replied. "But you're married now. Shouldn't your obsession with his guy have dissipated by now? He's a dangerous Contractor."

"Not to me," Sora responded quietly.

"Every girl dreams that a bad boy will go soft for her," Misaki scolded. "It's not true though. He may repress his instincts for a time when it benefits him – that's what Contractor's do. However, his true nature will return as necessary. Don't think for an instant that you're safe simply because he rescued you once." Sora rolled her eyes.

"I'm not a girl," she mumbled. "I'm a married woman. And you just… you won't understand." Misaki eyed her curiously from the corner of her eye before returning her gaze to the road ahead. Sora shifted her gaze to the side window, watching as the landscape blurred alongside her. She had been hearing the same thing over and over. Still, Sora refused to believe that Hei had simply abandoned her now that it no longer "benefited" him. How had he benefited before?

"Where are we going anyway?" Sora asked out of curiosity. She shifted in her seat again, anxiousness inspiring her nerves to tingle throughout her body.

They were burrowing deeper into the heart of the city now, which confused Sora. She imagined that Hei was still in the prison, or else somewhere out in the country or other inconspicuous location. Was she thinking predictably?

"Miyabita Production House," Misaki replied stoically. Sora stomach lurched, and for a moment she felt her breakfast climbing up her esophagus. The feeling passed quickly, however, and grateful Sora sat back in her seat and kept her mouth shut. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, and she threw her head back in an effort to relax. She could not.

"That's a dramatic reaction," Misaki commented. Sora glared at her.

"Oh yeah? And where's your incestuous brother hiding out?" she snapped. Misaki allowed a faint smile to grace her lips.

Glancing over at the young wife again, it struck Misaki that Sora had been en route to an unknown destination when she and Sora had met in the convenience store. Sora was rather dolled up in tight black pants, boots, and a bright red coat. She was even wearing makeup. She hadn't thought to ask to whom she might be carrying pastries.

"Did you have a business meeting this morning?" Misaki asked. Sora sat up in her seat.

"Turn right, here!" she commanded abruptly. Misaki, without much time to react, cranked her wheel sharply to the right, and they plummeted down a narrow tunnel leading underground. "This is the warehouse we're under. The tunnel leads to the garage below the production house."

"Is it a secret?"

"No, but the tunnel probably served a similar purpose back before the production house existed," Sora replied.

Misaki chose a parking space at random and hurried out of the car, pleased to find Saito waiting for her. Saito's rough face contorted with recognition upon spotting Sora, the only civilian left with her memories of Contractors intact. She looked especially beautiful today, he thought, but he also remained fully aware of the gravity of their present situation. Strangely, he remembered her being delicate little thing. As she approached, however, Saito saw something mature and devilish about her; he didn't trust her anymore.

"Chief, what is Kanbimura doing here?" he asked Misaki in a whisper, approaching. Sora rolled her eyes and decided now was not the proper time to inform Saito that her name was no longer Kanbimura, but Shengshun. Legally speaking.

"I ran into her, and I'm concerned she has information for us," Misaki answered authoritatively. "She tricked me into bringing her along."

"Tricked you?"

"She threatened to run," Misaki muttered, drawing her gun from her belt. "Where's our backup?" Saito drew his gun as well and stood up taller.

"They are surrounding the building, Chief!" he said. He turned to Sora. "You had best wait here." Sora's gaze gently flicked to Misaki, who nodded in agreement. Sora complied, crossing her arms over her chest and trying not to seem childish. She brushed her bangs out of her face and leaned on the hood of Misaki's Porsche, watching the two officers cautiously enter the building.

Sora counted down the minutes in her head as patiently as she could, and once she reached five, she sauntered proudly into the building despite Misaki's and Saito's insistence. She knew exactly where to go, and she intended to reunite with Hei and get him out of the building before anybody else could stop him.

Inside the production house, Sora found quiet. It was not a working day today, and all of the lights were off except one faded beam above, near the entrance. Pressing her body against a wall, she inclined her ear to listen for Misaki and Saito, or any of the other officers supposedly milling about the area. Sure enough that they were well inside the production house, Sora hurried down the hall as quietly as she could to the door leading to the basement. She recognized the potential danger she faced heading down into a dark basement without any weapons or other means of protecting herself. Still, she saw no other alternative, and turning the handle, she pushed open the door.

Sora expected the basement to be unlit and pitch black, but somewhere within the basement, down steps and out of view, was a source of bluish light that aided her down the stairs. She was up on her toes, shuffling cautiously, feeling the tension build. With her right hand on the railing, she used her left to clutch her stomach, though she questioned the value in that should she feel the urge to vomit again. The stairway had stone walls on either side; there was no way to discern who might be in the basement, but Sora found consolation in the fact that whoever may be in the basement could not see her approaching either, for the time being. At the base of the stairs, she halted and drew in a deep breath, peering around the corner. She was dreadfully disappointed; the basement was empty.

Seemingly.

Sora did not quite have her guard down, but her confusion did upset her concentration. She wandered deeper into the basement, astonished by equipment she had never seen before; none of it appeared to have any purpose in the production house for a clothing line. She didn't see a flashbulb or green screen anywhere. At the center of the room, however, was a large, glass box. It was big enough to house a baby elephant, perhaps, and the base appeared to be a machine of some sort, covered in dials and levers. The mysterious, blue light was emanating from this source, an uncomfortable contrast in the dark basement. Stepping closer, she narrowed her eyes and concentrated on the machine, trying to determine what it might be used for. Meanwhile, a tall, slender figure approached her from behind.

The frail woman yelped, wriggling as an arm wrapped around her waist and another hand covered her mouth. For a moment, everything Hei had taught her evaded her consciousness, but then flooded back. She drew up her dominant arm, the right one, and rammed it as hard as she could into the man's stomach, but his taut muscles deflected her strike. Hei had told her not to bother with anything twice if it clearly did not benefit her the first time, as it would waste precious strength better spent with another tactic. Recalling that, Sora brought both hands up to the man's arm, grabbed hold, and attempted to slip his hand down enough so that she could bite. Before she succeeded, a dark whisper graced her ear.

"Your identity's been compromised." Sora felt powerful adrenaline coursing through her veins as tears flooded her eyes. In anger, she chomped down on Hei's hand, causing him to wince and release her. Hei could feel the blood trickling down his fingers in the darkness, but he understood.

"Are you okay?" Sora muttered coldly.

"I can't expect you to be happy to see me," Hei said, ignoring her question.

"I'm relieved, anyway."

"I'm glad you're safe, Yozora." Hei questioned whether or not it was an appropriate time to approach her again. His wife hung her head and drew in a deep breath, and he was further saddened by what he had surely put her through these last six months. He felt foolish, being fearful of such a thing, of embracing his wife, but his greatest fear was hurting her, and he had done that.

Before Hei could come to a determination, Sora propelled herself into his arms. "I don't know why I bothered waiting for you to do this first," she whispered, lovingly burying her face against his chest. Hei sighed, relieved, and wrapped his arms about her waist.

"I can't explain everything right now," Hei told Sora gently. "I was being held here, and that's why I could not contact you."

"You look awful," Sora said, her focus clearly elsewhere. His stubble and shabby appearance did nothing to set a romantic mood. "You need a hot shower and-"

"Not yet," Hei said. "Things are not finished here." Sora drew back, but Hei wrestled to hold her close.

"What now?"

"I can't tell you."

"You can't?" Sora demanded, flabbergasted. "What am I supposed to do? Go back home and wait some more?"

"I know it sounds selfish, but I-"

"No, Hei, it _is_ selfish!" Hei calmly brushed some of the hair from Sora's face. It was useless attempting to appease her. It was impossible to make this easy for her, and there was no amount of rationality that would justify abandoning her again.

"You know what they said?" Sora muttered, swallowing hard. "November 11 and April, I mean. They think that you are showing your true colors as a Contractor, that you're allowing rationality to supersede your love for me. They are so certain that you are only out for what's best for you, and that that is no longer me. But I know you better than that, because you're not really who they think you are. And if you're not a Contractor, what is your motivation in doing this? Even your team is worried about you."

"I'm allowing my emotions to supersede my Contractor personality," Hei replied. "I'm doing this to protect you, Sora. Please allow me to do that."

They were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the basement door swinging open.

"Who's here with you?"

"Kirihara-san," Sora replied quickly as Hei sought his belt and mask. "Your star, Hei. They detected activity." Hei was extremely curious to know what Sora was doing with Misaki, but they had no time left.

"I have to go," Hei said quickly. Sora grabbed hold of his arm and spun him around, kissing him. Hei softly exhaled as Sora's lips lingered against his, softly drinking in a sensation he would be separated from once again.

"This isn't over," she warned him as he scurried to the shadows. Spinning around, she waited to confront Misaki and Saito. Only Saito appeared.

"We've been searching for you!" he snarled. "The building is empty. The Black Reaper got away." Sora said nothing, watching Saito furrow his brow at the machine.

"What is this thing?" Sora crossed her arms over her chest.

"Hell if I know." Saito rolled his eyes and grabbed hold of Sora. "What's your problem? I didn't do anything wrong!"

"On the contrary," the burly officer snarled. "You violated a police order and wandered off alone in a building where a dangerous criminal could be hiding out."

"A police order? She told me to wait by the car!"

"I'm not arguing with you, Sora," Saito said firmly.

"It appears to me that I'm the only one who discovered anything useful." The frazzled cop did not bother pointing out that they would have surveyed the entire building had they not had to search for her. Obviously.

Sora allowed Saito to drag her out of the building to where Misaki was waiting with her hands on her hips. She was married to a Contractor; this pompous crew would not intimidate her. When Saito finally released her, she brushed at her hair with her fingers to tidy up and stood tall to confront the section chief.

"What were you thinking?" Misaki demanded. "I told you not to trust that criminal simply because he rescued you before! No matter what your obsession is, _he does not love you!_"

"I'm an adult," Sora said. "You have no right to chastise me as if I'm a child!"

"Your behavior is extremely immature," Misaki argued. "And you're unstable." Sora cocked her head.

"Excuse me?"

"You're being taken into police custody."

"On what charges?" Sora demanded to know.

"Alright, how about the aiding and abetting of a criminal?" The Contractor's wife threw her nose into the air.

"You can bring me in on whatever charges you desire," she retorted. "But you have only hours to come up with evidence to hold me." Misaki's face remained stone cold despite the truth in Sora's words.

Several police vehicles filled the garage; a foolish move in Sora's opinion. If Hei was in full Reaper mode, he would have had a glorious warning with this parade of officers. They clearly underestimated who they were up against.

Saito grabbed hold of her arm again, but she snatched it free. She was not protesting the arrest, it was unnecessary to manhandle her. Rolling his eyes again, he directed her to a police van with no windows and slid open the door a crack, silently urging her inside. Sora climbed in and made herself comfortable while Saito called, "Section four!" and slammed the door shut.

Huang glanced up at Yozora in the rearview mirror and sighed.

"Don't bother explaining yet," he said. "I need a moment of silence from all of you." Yin grabbed hold of Yozora's hand, feeling it stiffen with tension. She could not be sure of the source, unable to see Yozora fuming at the feeling of November 11's overconfident gaze searing into the back of her skull. The van lurched forward and hit the road, destination undetermined.

Shaking off her discomfort, Yozora announced, "He's still alive. He didn't have time to explain anything."


	8. Kidnapped

**CHAPTER EIGHT: KIDNAPPED**

Sora stiffened as November 11 leaned forward in his seat to whisper, "You're cute."

"I don't need that from you right now," Yozora snarled in response, suddenly recalling that November 11, April, and July had not seen her without her mask on before. Although she knew it could not be helped, she still realized that she had greatly compromised her identity. Everyone knew who she was; her celebrity status, though relatively small, followed her everywhere. For the time being, though, no one commented on it.

Mao silently nodded to Yozora's duffel bag on the floor. All of her equipment was still available to her. For that much she was grateful. At least she would not have to continue on without her mask and blade should they embark on another task.

"So the Black Reaper is your lover, isn't he?" April pressed, turning around to get a look herself. "I always assumed he had a weakness, but to think it was _you_…"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Yozora inquired. April did not respond.

"Is it serious?" November 11 pressed. Yozora frowned.

"Are you hitting on me?" The Briton only smiled and sat back in his seat.

"Enough of that!" Huang grumbled. "Yozora is off limits, so control yourself." Sora smiled weakly and looked down at her lap. _Off limits, huh?_

Inside, Sora's thoughts were dominated by Hei. Being with him only for that brief moment had been so precious to her, and yet equally infuriating. What was he doing? How was it exactly that he was protecting her? And from what? The words they spoke swirled around in her head and made her anxious. More importantly, she wanted to be with him so badly. She felt as though her emotions had been toyed with; it was harder seeing him briefly than not seeing him at all, it appeared. She felt like crying.

"What did he say to you?" Mao asked, breaking the silence. Yozora started, then sighed heavily and shook her head.

"Nothing," she muttered. "Nothing really. He says he can't explain anything right now."

"Did he give you any instructions at all?" Huang demanded to know. Yozora rolled her eyes.

"If he had, I would have told you," she replied softly. Huang eyed her suspiciously in the rearview mirror.

"You two had better not be conspiring!" he warned. Sora didn't care what he said. She was far too concentrated on fighting back tears to pay attention to anything else.

"Where to now, driver?" November 11 asked smartly.

"We need a place to talk things through thoroughly," Mao suggested. "Hei might not have said much, but we still need a full report from Yozora on everything she's seen, and most especially on her run in with Kirihara." Yozora jumped, realizing that Misaki would be expecting her at the Public Security Division offices. She was not so intimidated by Misaki that she was worried, but she still had to consider what compromising measures the section chief might take in order to locate Sora again. It would not help the situation either if she were linked to Huang, Mao, and Yin, who were otherwise off the radar.

"I'm thinking that Yozora here needs to return to the Public Security Division," November 11 said suddenly, affirming Sora's thoughts. "And I will gladly be responsible for that. Misaki and I are… old pals."

"Nobody believes that," Yozora snapped. Huang and Mao were not going to say so, but they had to agree with her. And besides, no one had even agreed to the latter plan.

"We need a briefing," Huang said. "Afterward, we'll drop you back off near the Public Security Division. Hopefully you can decrease suspicion with a solid interview." Yozora shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. Even though she knew it was the right thing to do to protect her civilian identity, Sora had no desire to see Misaki again any time soon. She leaned forward to extract her gloves from her duffel bag, and Huang came to a sudden stop at a light, tossing her forward into his seat.

"Watch it!" Huang snarled. Sora didn't bother complaining about her head, but sat up straight and quickly slid her gloves onto her hands. It had occurred to her, considering November 11's extremely observant eye on her, that her wedding ring had been in plain sight. Hopefully he had not noticed, or else he had decided it was not worth mentioning.

Yin looked to Yozora calmly, and then took her hand again. Puzzled, Yozora turned to face Yin as well, but Yin did not speak.

"Is something the matter, Yin?" Yozora managed to ask, squeezing the placid doll's hand tightly.

"Hei."

* * *

><p>"I told you carefully that he did not spare me any information regarding what had happened to him," Yozora said defensively. "He told me that he was being held at Miyabita, and that that is the reason he lost contact with all of you."<p>

"Do you imagine that the machine had anything to do with his capture?" Mao asked.

"And how did he escape? You said he was free before you arrived, correct?" That was Huang, who could not even pretend he wasn't annoyed. Yozora rolled her eyes.

"I have no idea what the machine was, or how it worked," she explained. "I can speculate nothing regarding it."

"So you just played prince and princess in the dark and got yourself caught by the Public  
>Security Division?" April demanded to know. Sora was just at her wits' end with these two. She turned to them coldly.<p>

"If your concern is with the _supposed-_" She cast Mao and Huang a dark look to demonstrate her suspicion. "-substance in the prison, go back there and do your investigating. I have no idea why you're tagging along and antagonizing everyone."

"It might appear that we have goals unique to each other, but the fact of the matter is this: we need to know what BK-201 is up to because we can't have him in our way," November 11 explained. "Either that, or we might both benefit from a temporary partnership."

They were sitting in a circle beside the van in a tight alleyway. It was not the most secure hiding spot, nor was it particularly hygienic with the muddy, moss-filled puddles about, but no one could be concerned with that now. Huang was responsible for getting Sora to the Public Security Division as quickly as possible for fear Misaki might raise alarm to find her. The longer she was missing, the guiltier and guiltier she would appear.

"It was not the most touching of reunions," Yozora muttered. "If I had more to offer you, I would give it up willingly." Nobody appeared obliged to believe her. It was not so far beyond Sora to understand why they would be skeptical, but she truthfully could say nothing. Of course she had omitted details, but nothing compromising. She did not think that her hug or kiss with her husband was the Syndicate's business.

"What were you doing with Kirihara then?" Mao asked. Yozora had almost forgotten they might take an interest in all that. _Damn it._

"It was nothing at first," she replied. "She recognized me and initiated some horribly awkward small talk."

"Small talk?"

"Small talk is small talk, Huang," Yozora growled. "She asked me about my husband, and how I had been doing since… she and I last saw each other. That's it."

"And then what happened?"

"I tried to hurry off when you contacted me, but then I was distracted," Sora confessed. "It was his star. The Division reported activity. I figured we were all going in the same direction, so I demanded she take me with her."

"That's all there is to it?" Mao pressed. Suddenly, Yozora remembered the food and water she had abandoned on the street.

"Sorry about breakfast, you guys," she mumbled. "I had to ditch it. And yes, that's it."

Huang stood up gruffly. Much to Sora's disgust, he had promptly burned through three cigarettes during their brief meeting, and Sora was practically gagging. She found relief only after he snuffed his last one on his climb into the car. As Yozora stood, Yin and July appeared beside her. July was a lot like Yin in most respects, but for some reason, Sora found it harder to relate to him. Perhaps that was why she felt so compelled to try to communicate with him. It was not the first time this dilemma had come to mind; she had engaged with everyone else present except for July. She was not in a world of human kindness anymore, not since she'd donned the Reaper's mask, but that did not change the way she felt about having practically ignored him the entire time.

Nervously, Yozora looked down at July. Almost instinctively, he turned and looked up at her. Their eyes met and locked, but there was no connection. She could not even silently acknowledge July's vacant stare. Sighing heavily, Yozora reached for the doll's hand, gave it a quick squeeze, and turned to board the van. She hesitated.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Huang demanded to know, leaning out of the window. Yozora bit her lip, wondering if she ought to let him in first. He was a child, wasn't he?

July's soft face shifted as his lips parted just enough to utter, "After you," into the cold space between them. Yozora smiled softly and nodded, climbing inside. She held out her hand to July, who accepted and climbed inside, sitting beside her calmly. Huang's foot hit the pedal even before July could close the door, and they sped off en route to the Public Security Division offices.

* * *

><p>November 11 smirked down at Sora like a young wife he'd bought at auction, clutching on tightly to her gloved hand. Sora was too exhausted to find worth in making a fuss over his touching her, but she did not spare him any choice words of the vernacular in her mind. They were now following a puzzled and patronizing Saito down the hallway to the office he and the chief, alongside Ootsuka, often worked in. Misaki had been drumming pencils on the desk in anger, pondering what to do about her missing hostage. As Saito entered the room, she stood up in a huff prepared to snarl, but her expression quickly shifted to that of an extremely perplexed child. Ootsuka excused herself with Saito, nudging him on the way out the door for an explanation.<p>

"November 11?" Misaki mused uncertainly. Sora rolled her eyes as the British intelligence agent offered her a look that said "See?"

"Ah, Kirihara, a pleasure to see you again," he said charmingly, shoving Sora forward like a peace offering. "Look what I found."

"I was not running away," Sora said abruptly before November 11 could say anything else. "The van Saito put me in was full of strange affiliates of _his_." Sora pointed accusingly at November 11, offering him a devilish glare over the shoulder. Misaki's confusion was plastered conspicuously across her face.

"How are you involved in this, November 11?" the section chief demanded. November 11 winked and held up his hands.

"Hell if I know," he offered. "Might it have occurred to you that this little vixen might be lying?"

"I'm not lying," Sora said defensively, wrinkling her nose in disgust at 'vixen'. "I climbed into the van, and it was full of his… comrades!" November 11 was terribly amused with Sora's boldness, so much so that he wanted to play along. For Misaki, however, this game of lies was not amusing and she did not intend to entertain it any longer.

"No more," she said, putting her hand to her head in irritation. "Sora, you take a seat. November 11, I'll deal with you later."

"No reward?"

"I said 'no more'!" Sora was glad that someone was as eager as she was to put the cocky Briton in his place. She obligingly took her seat and waited for Misaki to assail her with questions, but the section chief took her time. Sora could not really blame her; this entire situation was a jumbled mess.

"Alright, why did you leave the car?"

"What?" Sora asked, frowning.

"I told you to wait by the car," Misaki said, taking care to explain herself. "Saito found you in the basement of Miyabita. What were you doing down there?" Sora thought very carefully about her answer. In order to perpetuate her deception, she would need to take either of two routes, the first being that she could insist on the purity of her love for the Black Reaper and all of its associated delusions. The second option was to wax nostalgic about her family and the tainted memories she had in the Miyabita Production House. It was such a horribly difficult decision to make because not only was the choice she made crucial, but the time it took her to respond was crucial as well.

"I just… have a lot of memories there," Sora managed to utter. It was a vague blend of both options, and in her mind it spoke volumes without her having to lie much more. She watched Misaki slowly close her eyes and rub her temples.

"What you did was dangerous and stupid," Misaki muttered. "But be truthful with me, and I won't hold it against you." Sora swallowed hard and shifted in her seat.

"What do you want to know?"

"Have you had any recent contact with BK-201?" Sora shook her head insistently.

"Not for a very long time. Maybe a year?" She could discern Misaki's desperation. She had been pursuing Hei for a number of years now, and he continuously eluded her. It must have been a source of great uneasiness and disappointment for her. The section chief rubbed her right eye beneath her glasses, yawned, and sat back in her seat.

"What are _you_ up to?" she asked November 11. The Briton frowned.

"Whatever she says," he replied, referring to Sora. Sora rolled her eyes.

"No, really," Misaki pressed.

"Classified."

Sora leaned forward in her seat apprehensively and said in a soft tone, "Misaki, please. If I can help you, then tell me how, but do not hold me here without reason."

"I just… don't understand you," the section chief replied openly. The young wife tucked some hair behind her ear and puckered her brow. She had a bad feeling in her stomach. "You have such an obsession with this monster. You know he's a Contractor, and you wanted so badly to remember him, but I can't really understand why. Don't give me the obvious answer." The obvious answer was the one Sora continued to reiterate: BK-201 was her hero. However, Sora had never explained how he had saved her even before the drama with Ichiro, or how much he had influenced her art and the woman she became. And she knew for a fact that she could never confess to Misaki that she was actually _married_ to the Contractor she pursued so relentlessly.

"I don't have any experience with him as a monster," Sora explained exasperatedly. "I don't know what else you want me to tell you. He was my hero. He rescued me from death and incest! If you choose to do something out of the kindness of your heart, Misaki, you don't hold it over my head the rest of my life every time you're fishing for a lead!" Misaki's eyes widened in astonishment, and she stood up.

"What?" Sora stood as well.

"This is just cruel! I thought you were showing me a kindness, but you're just using me! You want me to remember him because you think that I'll always owe you for this, that when he shows his face I'll lead you to him!"

"Sora, that is not-"

"I have nothing more to say to you, and I'm not so keen on listening either!"

The section chief gulped heavily as Sora stormed out of the room, viciously wiping tears away. November 11 silently mused to himself. _So she is in love with BK-201. But what's all this talk about her keeping her memories of him and past heroism?_ He had learned other things as well. She was affiliated with the Kanbimura clan, and her real name was Sora. _Interesting._  
>"Thank you, Misaki," November 11 said, sauntering out of the room after the distressed wife.<p>

Misaki was not equipped for dealing with people's emotions, and as soon as Sora began crying, she was rendered useless. She was not completely satisfied with her interview, but what Sora had accused her of made her feel a little guilty. Was it true? There had been conditions on the table when the Public Security Division decided to allow Sora her memories of BK-201, but Sora had already fulfilled the obligations specified. She had testified against her brother and mother years ago. She did not owe the Division anything else. Still, had Misaki been counting on more from her? Had her motives ultimately been selfish?

Sora was trembling with frustration. She had not intended to cry; she had not even fathomed getting so emotional. Those feelings regarding Misaki had surfaced since she ran into the chief, that she had been hoping to use Sora against her hero later on, but even as she decided to admit to those feelings, she had not expected to feel that flood of hurt. Perhaps she was simply reacting this way because she was already so unstable.

She and November 11, who had been trailing along behind her silently, turned a corner and stopped. It was a wide alley, large enough for a car to clear but at the moment was quiet as the traffic bustled alongside the nearby avenue. Sora hung her head dejectedly as she leaned against a wall, trying to shake her emotions before she and November had to report to Huang. She was tired, that must have been it. She needed sleep. Nightfall was already approaching yet again, and so much was happening all at once.

Sora looked up suddenly as November 11 took her in his arms and held her head against his chest. She stiffened awkwardly at first, confused. He was a Contractor, wasn't he? What on earth was he doing? He didn't let go though, even though Sora was evidently uncomfortable, and after a while Sora relented to his grasp on her and hugged him back, trying not to smear her mascara and eyeliner on his white suit. She managed to calm down as he stroked her hair, silently. No one uttered a word. Sora did not envision him as a man of consoling words, and despite feeling somewhat contented to have a soothing embrace, she was generally confused and could not work up the nerve to thank him or show any other sort of affection.

November 11 suddenly forced her out of his arms. Her back hit the wall, not roughly, but enough to startle her, and after looking up at the Briton, she followed his gaze down the alley. Her eyes widened as they focused on the figure before them. There stood the Black Reaper, complete with mask and coat, staring at the two of them hollowly. Sora could hardly contain her horror, aware of how this must appear to Hei. Nothing really had been said between she and November, and beyond the embrace nothing inappropriate had transpired. But Hei would not know that.

Without a spoken word, the Black Reaper charged November 11 and Sora, and he landed a power punch in November 11's jaw. As the Briton stumbled back and massaged his jaw, Hei spun around and grabbed hold of Sora by the collar of her red coat, snatching her into his arms and slinging her thin body over his shoulder. Sora was not afraid, but she was in such a state of incomprehension that she could hardly react to what had just happened.

"Yozora!" November 11 shouted after her, and started to follow them.

"No, stop!" Sora told him. "It's… just stop!" November 11 reluctantly gave up chase and watched as Sora and the Black Reaper disappeared from view. He had learned enough from Sora's interview with Misaki to be sure that no harm would come to Sora, at least he did not believe so. However, he could not imagine her kidnapping as a good thing, and Huang would certainly be less than pleased.


	9. At War

**CHAPTER NINE: AT WAR**

Hei set Sora down on her feet roughly and removed his mask from his face. It was evident without speech that Hei was angry, jealous too, but unjustly so. Overly familiar with the bare room, his wife did not bother looking for a place to sit, but made herself as comfortable as possible on the floor. She looked up at Hei in anticipation, but he kept his back to her for some time, rubbing his temples slightly. Sora could see the stars beginning to wink in the darkening sky, and all she could think about was how exhausted she had been, and how this was the last scenario she had imagined for herself. She and her husband were back together again and but not at all joyful. She only hoped she could deflect his misguided anger quickly. All she wanted to do was climb into bed. When Hei finally turned to her, she sucked up as much air as she could and forced it deep down into her lungs, nervous.

"I thought you were…" He appeared to change his mind about what he wanted to say. At length, he tried again. "What were you doing with November 11?" Sora sighed heavily.

"Oh please, Hei," she grumbled. Even in light of the circumstances, she could hardly believe that this is what he wanted to talk about. She certainly didn't want to talk about it.

"Tell me."

"I had a very frustrating conversation with Misaki moments before, and I suppose he was just trying to be nice," she muttered. Hei sat down in front of her, his skepticism evident. "We didn't say anything to each other, either. It was just obvious that I was upset."

"I don't want you to lie."

"How dare you make accusations?" Sora snarled. "Honestly, Hei, _you're_ the one who disappeared for six months! I was at home, going to bed alone, eating alone, pondering all of the terrible things that could have happened to our marriage… " She couldn't continue. She had fought so hard not to think ill of Hei, and she did not want to revisit her doubts again.

"Don't turn this back on me," Hei retorted. "I made an effort to come see you in light of everything, and then I find you in another man's arms."

"Nothing happened!" Sora shouted. "Nothing has _been_ happening! I can't speak for November 11 or his feelings, but I am not romantically interested in the least. I was crying, and he was trying to comfort me. I will not read into his actions without cause." Hei drew in a deep breath and held it briefly, releasing it slow and steady. No one spoke for a time. His wife began crying again, which frustrated him further.

Sora had been delayed in her observing a black duffel bag tucked against a corner in the wall. It was a lot like the one she had used to house her equipment as the Night Reaper. Her curiosity was piqued, but she and Hei were already in a state of extreme frustration, and she had a very minimal desire to interrogate him about anything further, even a duffel bag. Her gaze, still blurred with tears, flicked up at her husband, who was still staring aimlessly at a wall, his face clouded over with jealousy and worry. Sora relented and crawled over to him on her hands and knees, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I'm sorry for-" Hei held a finger to her lips.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," he told her sincerely. His gaze grew soft and pleading, and Sora happily sat down in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed her neck while she wiped her remaining tears away.

"What do we do now?" she asked in a whisper, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed in his embrace.

"We?" Hei wondered aloud. "There is no 'we'. I'm alive and well; I want you to go back home. You can stay with your father, or maybe get out of Japan. Go see Datou or Mushiro." Sora sighed heavily. She didn't want to start another argument, but the very nerve of him to assume that his simply being alive should be the end of her worry aggravated her.

"I'm staying with you, Hei," Sora said. "That's it."

"I'm not going to put you back in harm's way," Hei said authoritatively. "I'm your husband; I have to do what's best for our marriage, okay?" Sora sunk deeper into Hei's arms, and he held her tighter.

"It's not fair, Hei," she said. "I don't want you to disappear again or die while I'm in Shizuoka or Europe. What am I supposed to do without you? How can I have closure if I cannot even say goodbye?" The Contractor cleared his throat, and lacking any justifiable argument, he buried his face in the warmth of his wife's neck and said nothing. Sora did not press him any further, but she wanted to.

Hei could feel Sora drifting to sleep. "You're tired, aren't you? You were up all night," he said. Sora, in a daze, did not think to question his knowledge of what she was up to all night.

"I'm very tired," she muttered almost inaudibly. Hei planted another kiss on her cheek and then urged her out of his lap. He retrieved the duffel bag in the corner, and unloaded the supplies he had brought with him: a blanket, foodstuffs, even a pillow. Sora giggled.

"You ran off from Miyabita to fetch blankets?" she mused. Hei smiled at her, glad to see her happy if only for a moment.

"I had something I needed to take care of first, but I wanted to make sure we had some time together," he replied, unfolding the blanket. "I'll make something to eat, you get your rest." Sora bit her lip and glanced about her uncertainly, Hei frowning at her.

In a swift motion, Sora was on her feet and had thrown her arms about Hei's neck, kissing him passionately. Hei was not naïve, nor was he blind to his wife's signals. It was immediately obvious to him what Sora sought, and he greatly wanted it too. He felt his hands moving up to grip her waist, and his heart began to thump heavily. Even so, he felt responsible for guaranteeing Sora got some rest and was properly taken care of. He broke the kiss but looked into his wife's eyes reassuringly.

"What?" Sora asked, and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes again. What the hell was his problem? Hei smiled softly.

"You need rest," he said, "And a good meal." Sora shook her head.

"No, I need you." Her voice was hushed and pleading, and Hei desperately longed to relent.

"I know," he agreed, aware of his own needs. "This is more important though." It appeared their interests were endlessly conflicting.

"Can I at least cook?" Sora begged. "When did you last have a good-"

"No. Get some sleep. I've had loads of rest, I'm fine." Sora sighed heavily, looking down to eye the blanket and pillow on the floor. She felt stupid. She didn't want to sleep, least off all in Li's mangy apartment. She wanted to be home in her bed with her husband. She nodded her consent and let Hei carry the food into the kitchenette to cook for her. Aware that she was limited in arguments, she sat down on the floor and began fluffing the pillow for her head. She removed her trench coat, then unzipped her jumpsuit, feeling relieved at the feeling of air against her skin. Being sealed in the jumpsuit for the last several hours had grown tiresome.

Sora thought she would have difficulty sleeping, but ultimately she found great peace knowing that her husband was near and watching over her. She drifted off easily, and fell deep into sleep she had not experienced in a long, long time.

* * *

><p>November 11 was plagued by a strange feeling as he wandered slowly down the street to regroup. He felt frustration because he knew he would have to explain Sora's absence, especially that she had been kidnapped by the Black Reaper. He felt like a fool for allowing Sora to stop him from chasing after her. And then there was that embrace. He felt as though he had not acted of his own volition then; some invisible, magnetic force drew their bodies together. He had not actually acted inappropriately, of course, that much was certain. Sora had been feverishly upset, and any other human's natural response would be an attempt to console her. November 11 did not give out hugs though, not like that. <em>The vixen got to me<em>, he admitted silently. _Damn it._

November had been ordered to meet Huang, Mao, Yin, April, and July at a small, frequently empty playground. The cast of clandestine agents were scattered about the play structure and nearby fountain. Odd as the group was, they somehow looked natural together.

Mao leapt out of Yin's lap and trotted over slowly, the first to notice Sora's absence.

"Where's Yozora?" he asked, looking straight up at November 11. November sighed.

"The Black Reaper took her," he responded. Everyone looked up at him save the two dolls present, confused. "Outside the Public Security offices. She didn't resist, and she told me not to come after her." He had already decided to omit any details pertaining to their embrace or the Black Reaper's hostility toward him.

"And you listened to her?"

"The Black Reaper is your responsibility, not mine," November 11 replied. "I imagine she's just fine." November 11 had a hard time believing that she was 'just fine' but he was also aware that Sora and the Black Reaper were closer than anyone truly cared to explain. He was almost positive that they were lovers, or at least were wrapped in some childish obsession with each other.

"Huang, just calm down," Mao said. "We can be sure she's not in danger." Huang groaned.

"But I would like to know what the hell he's been up to all this time! And why he's running around in circles and kidnapping women."

"He did not kidnap any woman; it's Yozora," Mao reminded him. "They'll get it out of their system, and then Hei can get back to work." _Out of their system?_ November 11 wondered silently, his suspicions further confirmed. He had no way of knowing though that April had the very same thought on her mind. He rolled his eyes.  
>Mao was wholly aware of his slip of the tongue, but he knew it was too late to take back anything spoken. He now wondered what November 11 thought he knew, and as he looked around at everyone's faces, he realized that everyone was suspicious of everyone. Lies and omitted details were obvious amongst them.<p>

"While we're all speculating," November 11 began, looking up from the woodchips, "What is the nature of BK-201's relationship with Yozora?" He watched Mao's gaze shift from Yin, whose lap he was resting in, to Huang, who released an irritated sigh.

"There's nothing to report," he muttered. "We're all very well acquainted with Yozora from a previous mission."

"What does a fragile thing like that have to do with Contractor relations?" April pressed. November 11 glanced up at her briefly as she shifted her weight from her right leg to her left impatiently, her hip out. Her arms were crossed and her face was pinched with mild aggravation. What the hell were they all doing anyway? Just spinning in useless circles?

Mao answered this time. "Yozora has twisted family connections. Somehow they managed to get Contractors involved, then the Syndicate involved and well…" Now the MI6 agents were rolling their eyes. It didn't make any sense.

"So Yozora and BK-201… they're in love?" Mao leapt out of Yin's lap and trotted off, and Huang simply lit a cigarette and turned his back to the rest of the group. _The answer is yes, then,_ November 11 concluded.

* * *

><p>Sora was hungry, but she picked listlessly at her food with her chopsticks. She watched Hei shovel food into his mouth as he always did, his insatiable appetite alive and at work. All she could think about was how Hei meant to turn her away so that he could return to work with the Syndicate. That was simply unacceptable to her.<p>

"It's dark out now," she mumbled softly, biting her lip. "Do you have the night?" Hei lowered his chopsticks for the first time since they had begun eating and chewed slower, waiting until he had swallowed his great mouthful of food before responding.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you have to go back right away or… can you wait until the morning?" Hei sighed.

"I think the best course of action is to check in with Mao, Huang, and Yin right away," he replied. Sora sighed heavily and nodded.

"Then Yozora is going with you," she said, her face still. She meant it. Hei appeared to lack the spirit to argue with her even though he had already made it clear that he voted against the idea. "I held my own thus far…" Even Sora knew that was not entirely true. She had almost been raped by a mob of prison inmates, but at least now that Hei was here, their team should be invincible. Her husband picked up his bowl and chopsticks again, serving himself a heaping bite of rice and vegetables without word.

* * *

><p>Mao was the first to pick up on the sound of soft footsteps crunching on woodchips and sand, and he raised one ear quizzically. One of his great advantages as a feline was his ability to see rather clearly in great darkness, and as the forms of Sora and Hei materialized, he sat upright in his mildly comfortable nest of bark. The others slowly took notice of the approaching figures with the aid of the soft glow of the false stars and dim street lamps, and one after another everyone awoke from their half-hearted slumber to greet Hei and Yozora.<p>

"So you're alive," Huang mused. "Do you want to fill us in on what you've been doing for six months?"

"That's not important right now," the Black Reaper replied darkly. "We have more important things to attend to."

"Is Yozora staying with us?" Yin asked. She was sitting on the base of the slide, her face turned upward to catch the glow of the lamplight. Yozora walked over to the slide and removed her mask, lowering her face to kiss Yin's forehead.

"We're a team now," she whispered softly.

November 11 was surprised by this. He had imagined BK-201 would have wanted to remove Yozora from association with him and from harm's way. There was something all too puzzling about the way the team responded to her, knowing that she was a human and evidently incompetent.

The Black Reaper's cold mask turned on the Briton eerily, and he said, "Though we are all interested in the same thing, we are not a team." Yozora stood up straight and faced her husband, instantly attuned to his hostility. She wanted to say something, but she imagined she'd make things worse. She swallowed hard and took Yin's hand as the doll stood up beside her. The doll squeezed back tightly.

"I like it that way," April agreed, giving Yozora a warning look, but Yozora ignored her and returned the Reaper's mask to her face with her spare hand. They had unwittingly forged an alliance, but they were still clearly at war with each other. The air grew thick with distrust.

November 11 stood haughtily and smiled, dusting off his suit. It remained pristine despite his ongoing activity. "Spoken like a true Contractor," he said.


	10. Inmate Lab Mice

**CHAPTER TEN: INMATE LAB MICE**

The group had divided into three teams. Huang and April remained in the van with Yin and July, as it was decided that the dolls would be more useful outside the prison. July in particular had the use of his surveillance specters while in contact with the car windows, and though glass supply inside the prison was limited, it was not entirely unavailable. Group 2 consisted of Mao and Yozora, a decision Hei had taken immediate offense with. Huang had reasoned against Hei teaming up with Yozora because he was sure (as was everyone else) that she would distract him, and the next best option, November 11, was immediately rejected by the Black Reaper Council, a vote of one against seven that somehow stood. That left November 11 and Hei together, ironically, and the latter had to fight to convince himself that it was better off this way. No time was left to be wasted, and the teams begrudgingly entered the prison the way Mao and Yozora had done so formerly and split up once inside.

* * *

><p>"At some point Hei will owe us all an explanation," Mao whispered, keeping close at Yozora's feet. He didn't like the way the grates in the scaffold network felt on his paws, and it distracted him. Worse still, Hei's secrecy was grating his nerves as well. A few moments passed without a response, and Mao looked up at Yozora quizzically, realizing that he had lost pace with her. She was not as conversational as before and was extremely focused on the mission now. Mao was sure it was not so far beyond the truth to suggest she was wondering what Hei was doing on the opposite end of the prison.<p>

"Nothing?" he pressed. Yozora pressed her body to the wall silently and held her breath for a moment, and the black cat shifted his head, the bell around his neck tinkling faintly. Narrowing his eyes, he took a closer look at her in the dark, his feline vision at advantage, and realized that the false Contractor was trembling.

"The last time I was here, all the prisoners broke free and tried to rape me," she responded at last. "And my brother is held here too, so yeah, I'm a little on edge. It doesn't help to direct my attention to the other thing that is worrying me, either." Mao hissed at himself. He should have known better.

"Sorry, I was being insensitive," he agreed. "It's hard for men, sometimes." Yozora rolled her eyes and stood up straight. After a few deep breaths, she was able to shake the most debilitating of her nerves and continued leading the way.

Yozora's mask caught the dim lighting in the scaffolding, projecting a haunting glow, and her posture was tense, stiffened through. Mao wanted to urge her to relax, but what good would such empty words do? They were approaching the warden's office again, down below them. The light was still bright in the window, and the office was filled with guards exchanging thoughts and papers. Their visit did not appear casual; very likely they were still working to ascertain the cause of the security breach. Yozora halted again, peering down to get a better look. It had crossed her mind before that perhaps nighttime was not the best opportunity for any undercover Contractors to manufacture criminal substances in a prison. Would it not be more logical for them to appear busy alongside the other menial tasks, the comings and goings, the hustle of the day? And where was the most ideal location to manufacture anything at all?

Suddenly, the troop of prison guards exited the warden's office. They all took brisk paces, but none appeared in an important hurry in any particular direction. Hopeful, Yozora leaned across the scaffold railings and craned her neck, trying to get a better view of the warden's office. Mao rolled his eyes and padded over, laying flat on the grates to get a better view himself.

"The warden is still in there," he muttered. He found that so long as they were not moving, it was much more comfortable for his paws to lie down. Yozora sighed.

"Figures," she grumbled. "I want to get in there. That's where the answers are… blueprints, surveillance, documentation of the ongoing projects and responsibilities around here. That's what we need!" Mao certainly agreed.

"We'd need a means of distracting him, but it's risky after the ways things ended here the night before last," he told her. The Night Reaper nodded in response.

There was another pressing matter on her mind. Try as she could – and she certainly tried – she did not fully believe the story Huang had fed her during their briefing at Kanbimura's estate in Shizuoka. They were fools to think that she would. No matter how ordinary she was, regardless of her human nature, she had learned quickly how things functioned in this team. Lies. Before Yozora could ask the serious questions however, there was yet another she needed to ask and end her puzzlement.

"Do you imagine those prisoners all thawed out?" she asked Mao. Mao's face contorted with confusion, followed by enlightenment. He laughed.

"If they hadn't, I'm sure this prison would still be in utter chaos," he mused. Sora knew that she had best catch him while his guard was down.

"Enough crap from the both of you!" she snapped, her dark mask fixed on Mao. The cat stopped laughing immediately and sat up straight, confused. "Tell me what's _really_ going on around here. There's more to it than you're telling me, and I refuse to be lied to."

"What are you talking about?" Mao muttered, trying not to give himself away.

"Not good enough! What is it about this substance that is so important to the Syndicate and MI6? Mao, I want the truth, and you should know I will be ruthless until I get it." Mao recalled the pepper spray and saucy attitude he had been victimized with the day this had all begun, the day Sora had cornered him in the tobacco stand for information. However, he did not think it was wise to give her the full details either. They had withheld them for a reason, and it's not as if Huang had informed the Syndicate of their makeshift union.

"Yozora, you know enough to help us," Mao replied. "And it's not as if we _need_ you anyway, now that Hei is back." Sora drew in deep breaths of the musty, prison air through her nostrils, trying to harness some inner calm. Even so, she could feel her frustration levels rising again. The rush of adrenaline in her body was tossing and turning like a ship in a sea storm.

"You may not need me, but I am here," she said. "We don't know what I might overlook because I do not think it pertinent. Let's not make mistakes here, Mao. Everyone already discredits my efficiency because I am a human; do not put more handicaps on this mission." Mao was feeling his own frustrations now; Sora was always adept as reasoning with people. He had no choice but to relent under her logic. Huang would not be happy, but if he thought about it realistically, he would see that Sora would be of much more use to the team if she actually knew what she was doing.

"Fine," Mao agreed, making himself comfortable again. "It is our understanding that the substance is a drug (still in development) to be used to control or suppress Contractor powers."

"Even though I'm sure it's an obvious question…. Who wants this power?" Yozora asked, the gears in her brain already turning.

"It should be obvious that anyone and everyone affiliated with Contractors should want access to this power, even in its experimental stages," Mao explained. "However, this initiative began with an anti-Contractor faction of the government. That's the information most people do not have access to. It's a malevolent initiative… if you're a Contractor, that is." Yozora was still unsatisfied with something. She crossed her legs and leaned forward.

"But you said that other Contractors were undercover here," she argued. "Why would they agree to assist this initiative when it is clearly purposed to destroy them?"

"We said 'Contractor' to make it easier for you to understand, but the truth is, there are different… types of Contractors, if you will."

"Types?"

"Yes, and the Contractors assisting this mission are known as moratoria. Moratoria are a breed straddling the fence. They have powers, but they have no control over them at all, and no remuneration. It is as if they enter an idle state while their _powers_ operate _them_. Over time, they lose their powers and become dolls, but not like Yin, or even July." Yozora tried to imagine a person more oblivious than July. She did not know him well, but he still seemed capable of functioning in some ways on his own. Was there really a level lower than that?

"So then these moratoria are seeking to control their powers. That's why they would take part in such a risky operation," she concluded in a whisper, deep in thought. Mao was glad Sora could fill in some of the blanks herself.

"Correct, but it's likely that the anti-Contractor faction will dispose of the moratoria once they've exhausted use of them," he continued. "Their goal is to control or eliminate Contractors, and so the moratoria are not likely to receive any special treatment."

"Might there be another method of impeding the process of becoming a doll?"

"Only other experimental drugs." Mao thought of Wiegenlied's leader, Klang, who had been sustained on a serum with full control of his powers and no remuneration. Still, drugs like that were not easily accessible, and were usually accompanied by a host of risks. "It was Hei's responsibility to gather information regarding the drug's ingredients, manufacturing process, effects, and a list of officials involved."

Sora began racking her brain for something… something she knew she was supposed to remember. Taking all the details Mao had given her, she became aware of two things. The first was that she doubted more and more Ichiro's involvement in Hei's disappearance and did not believe he was involved with the anti-Contractor faction at all. The second thing was that there were two places they absolutely needed to survey in the prison, and that was the warden's office as well as the Special CA block for Contractors. And then there was…

The machine housed at Miyabita. Sora remembered now the mysterious machine in the basement of the production house, and how Hei had materialized in the darkness out of nowhere. Hei was being held hostage there, and Sora tried to imagine again what sort of machine it could have been. It was strong enough to entrap an elite Contractor for months, assuming it was within that tomb that Hei had been held, but it was no ordinary cage. Complete with dials and levers and infamous red buttons, Sora had a dark feeling in her belly, the acid churning uncomfortably. What if…?

"Sora, what are you-"

"We absolutely need to get to the warden's office first," Yozora interrupted. "Somehow, and I don't much care how, we need to get access to his files and surveillance footage-"

"It's my turn to interrupt you," Mao said. "You need to understand that we operate in the shadows." Yozora stood up and rolled her eyes. She didn't care what Mao said, she was certain that the warden's office was where all the significant information lay.

"Furthermore, once we leave the scaffolding, we'll be on camera too," Mao continued. "We especially don't want that." He lifted up one of his hind legs to scratch behind his ear, and Sora dejectedly leaned against the scaffold railing. Mao had no faith in her, and that in itself was upsetting, but Sora could not deny the truth in Mao's words. It appeared impossible to break into the warden's office without being detected, and even if the prison staff could write off what happened as an unexplained phenomenon, there was still the danger posed by the anti-Contractor faction responsible for kidnapping Hei. _What do I do?_ Sora's mind was wailing with frustration.

"Then what the hell are we even doing in here?" she demanded to know. "No one will give us insider information simply by asking. And if the prison staff don't see what's going on, then how-" Yozora stopped herself, subtly shaking her head with disbelief.

"Was that rhetorical, or-"

"They're in on it," Yozora said. "It's really the only logical explanation, isn't it? What if staff members – likely authority – are in on this? They have a prison full of guinea pigs on which to test the strength and effects of the drugs. Nobody cares about what happens to these people."

"That does make the most sense," Mao agreed. "But even with that theory, we have no evidence and…"

"This is why we need to get into the warden's office!" Yozora reiterated yet again. "The only way for this large operation to go so unnoticed is if the people who are supposed to notice are, in fact, responsible."

"I can contact Huang…" The skepticism was obvious in Mao's voice.

"So that is your task," Yozora told him firmly. "You're a cat, the least interesting figure of the team. I wouldn't doubt they get strange, stray animals in here all the time. Use your stealth and get into that office."

"What will you be doing?" Mao demanded to know, suddenly aware that Yozora was not using the word 'we' anymore.

"I have an errand of my own."

"We can't split up!" Mao hissed, sparing no effort to conceal his alarm. But he paused and thought it through. Sora appeared determined to do whatever she wanted anyway, and how was he to stop her? "Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about that just yet," Yozora replied. She wanted to keep her theory regarding the machine a secret until she was sure. If it was at all the breakthrough she assumed it would be, she knew Hei would not want the MI6 agents involved. Therefore, without offering much more explanation, the Night Reaper stalked off with a renewed confidence in herself. She would prove herself deserving of respect on this team, she who re-launched a defunct mission with sheer will, she who was certain of holding the key, and once she solved this mystery, she would bring Hei home.

Mao wanted to question her, but he chose to contact Huang, as well and Hei and November 11 to update everyone on Yozora's theory and unending desire to acquire access to the warden's office. He did not like Yozora's insistence on separating from him, and as he watched her silhouette disappear into the darkness, he only hoped she would be alright. The wrath of the Black Reaper was more than he could bear.

* * *

><p>Hei did not want to give November 11 any satisfaction, so he resisted the rage ever building up inside of him. He managed to distract himself with yet more worries about Sora's condition, as well as the case at hand. It was frustrating for him to have essentially returned to square one after everything he had been through – with a smug Briton, no less – but he would work as hard as he could to complete this task with Sora safe.<p>

The two Contractors had already surveyed all of the production rooms – the kitchen, the wash room, and the like – and were now exiting the recreation floor and entering the prison yard. Their present goal was to make their way to the Special CA block where the hardened Contractors were allegedly housed. If nothing else, it would be interesting to survey such a unique cast of inmates. The care ordinary humans must have attended to to ensure that they were safe against the supernatural abilities of these feared monsters should prove fascinating.

Hei moved at a brisk pace, efficient but sparing little energy because of his toned legs, and November 11 sauntered casually behind him while keeping pace. The Briton had to admit to himself that his head was not completely submerged in the mission either, but rather was bobbing along. He could not explain his urge to comfort Sora in the alley, though he would never admit, not even to himself, that love or lust had motivated him. The more mysteries he uncovered, the greater his fascination piqued. He cleared his throat, and he noticed Hei twitch with irritation.

"I take it you want to say something," the Black Reaper snarled.

"Tell me how you met Sora," November 11 insisted coolly. Hei abruptly stopped walking and turned around, his mask concealing the fire that blazed in his blue eyes.

"Do not say her name," he told his companion harshly. "We all have aliases for a reason, and Yozora's identity is especially precious."

"Precious to _you_," November 11 emphasized, his demeanor growing serious. "Your team gives a lot of credit to that woman, more so than they can afford to waste on humans. You must imagine that raised some flags for my team and me."

"It's not your business," Hei retorted. "There will _always_ be secrets between us." The MI6 agent could not disagree with this, but it did not cure his curiosity. He would not be satisfied until he knew the truth.

The Reaper took hold of the prison door and gave it a shove, but it didn't budge. Of course it was locked this time of night, or at all times. He had not taken into account that when everyone had previously managed to escape the facility, the security on the prison had shorted, disarming all locks. Taking hold of the handle once more, he prepared to give the wiring a jolt when suddenly footsteps sounded in the recreation room. November 11's white suit was still visible out of the corner of the Reaper's eye, so he knew that the Briton was not the source of disturbance.

"Other one," a guard called, referring to Hei. "Turn around so that we can see you."

"You want to explain what you think you're doing here?" another said. Hei turned around slowly, annoyed and frustrated with himself for his error in judgment. Working with November 11, knowing that Sora was within the prison, lacking any solid remembrance of his imprisonment; all of these things was interfering with his thoughts. Both guards were frowning intensely, most especially at the Black Reaper's gaudy appearance.

"We certainly would, officer," November 11 replied calmly. "I'm afraid that there is little time for that, however."

* * *

><p>Sora found her way back to Ichiro's cell block, slightly more sure of herself. She had overcome his cruel words before, as well as the massive prison break. She could now withstand whatever else Ichiro might attempt. Even with his perverse thoughts and words, he was still her brother and appeared at least somewhat inclined to assist her. She had but a few simple questions for him, and if he could give her clear answers, whether she suffered more torment from him or not, that would be enough for her. And then she could concentrate on the next phase of her plan.<p>

Looking down through the narrow opening between the scaffolding network and Ichiro's cell, Sora drew her wire from her belt and secured it to the railing. Her stomach shifted, and a brief bout of nausea followed, but they dissipated quickly and she leapt down into the cell with the same precision as before. Her stealth landing startled her brother, who sat up in bed immediately.

"Another visit?" he mused sleepily, rubbing his eyes. He appeared somewhat relieved to discover it was only Sora who had returned. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He brushed some disheveled hair from his eyes, which were glazed over with a sickly film. Sora felt a soft pang of pity in her heart, but she shook that away as well.

"I need to ask you something very important," she told Ichiro calmly. "I need this one small thing of you." Ichiro managed to smile.

"It feels so good to be needed," he said genuinely. Sora did not respond to this comment.

"It might appear confusing, but-"

"Just ask me, Sora," Ichiro interrupted. He leaned forward in anticipation, and his younger sister leaned back against the stone wall of his cell, gently scratching the back of her neck.

"What I want to know," she began, "is whether or not the guards have administered any strange medications to the inmates as of late." Ichiro frowned at her, and Sora watched him try hard to resist asking what this was all about.

"Like a sedative?" he suggested. "Those are administered all the time to unruly inmates." Sora shook her head.

"No, not commonplace medicines," she said. "Something a bit more nonspecific, something they introduced abruptly, maybe around six or seven months ago." Ichiro seemed to think on it, but he didn't look too sure of himself. His frown intensified, and he shrugged.

"It's a prison," he told her. "They could administer all sorts of things and get away with it." Sora was feeling anxious and disappointed. She thought about it some more. Even if they had introduced a new drug, they could have administered it under false pretenses. They might have suggested it was another sedative, or could have swapped out an inmate's traditional medication without word. How might one draw the distinction? Ichiro startled her when he released a faint cough. It was nothing serious, his sister could tell, but she was suddenly struck with enlightenment. There it lay, in Ichiro's throat, a means of telling the medicines apart.

"Have any of the inmates suddenly struck ill without definitive cause? Maybe the flu?" she asked her brother. He raised an eyebrow, but a flicker of understanding surfaced in his face.

"A couple, actually," he mumbled. "I don't think there was ever an explanation for it either." Sora's body grew warm as the adrenaline pounded through again. This was a start!

"I know it might be hard to recall, but do you think any of those who fell ill were already taking medication?" she pressed eagerly. Ichiro chuckled at his sister's change in attitude, but took to thought again. Sora added, "Especially a treatment they might have begun only shortly before getting sick!"

"One was, that I know for sure," he replied. "But I don't know about the rest. Now that I think about it, this happened quite a few times, but not especially recently."

"You mean regularly?" his younger sister pressed. "A group of inmates fell down ill at the same time, multiple times?" He looked to Sora sincerely and nodded.

"Do you think they were testing experimental medications on the inmates?" Ichiro asked her. "It would explain some things…"

"I have to go," Sora told him instead, their meeting drawing to a close abruptly. Ichiro said nothing, did not protest or attempt to restrain her. He simply watched her glide back up to the scaffolds as her wire retracted and listened as her gentle footsteps faded into the distance.

Sora knew now that she had to get out of here, but she did not want the rest of the team involved. She was ahead of them for once, but no, pride had no factor here. The team was clumsy with their extra appendage, the MI6 agents, and if she involved Huang or anybody else, November 11, April, and July were bound to be involved too. It would serve as a hindrance, so at least for now, her goal was to gather information alone. She imagined Hei would be furious when he realized she was missing, but he had caused her the same grief. Not that she liked to be petty.

The guards were testing this drug on the inmates, testing for side effects. Given what Ichiro had told her, she was positive that those inmates had not contracted the flu, but were suffering adverse reactions to the medication; their specific symptoms were irrelevant. This theory was further supported by the fact that it had happened multiple times on a regular basis. She did not know where they were manufacturing the drug, or how exactly the guards were involved, or what their purposes might be, but at least she had a witness account of their tests. If Mao could get into the wardens' offices, her proof would be indisputable, and she might gain further insight into how the prison staff was linked to whatever elaborate efforts the anti-Contractor faction was taking. There must be a big picture to this operation.

Sora's earpiece suddenly clicked and buzzed to life. She paused in the shadows of the scaffold and strained her ear to hear, but she could not clearly pick up on the words spoken until Hei's voice resonated loud and clear. "It's the Night Reaper," he said. "He must escape the dawn."

_What? Hei, what does that mean?_ Sora wondered nervously. The Night Reaper was she, but what did he mean by "must escape the dawn"? Day and night were opposites… would a creature of the night have an enemy in the day? _Escape the dawn…_ The other voices, still muffled and indistinct, appeared angry and confused. Sora feared remaining stationary, whatever it was that Hei was trying to tell her, so she started running in pursuit of the loading garage and her exit.

It was a warning, wasn't it? Hei was telling her to escape.

What perfect timing for Sora, as she was prepared to do that very thing. Now she had justification for doing so.


	11. First, There is Failure

**CHAPTER 11: FIRST, THERE IS FAILURE**

The prison guards continued to demand that the Black Reaper remove his mask, but Hei knew better than to comply. He maintained his calm even in this most heated situation, and November 11 deftly followed suit. His Contractor powers perfectly complemented his cool personality. Both Contractors knew that so long as they could remain calm, they could maintain their control over the situation. If they gave in to panic, much like the guards already had, they would lose their wits, their rationality, and how were they to talk their way out then?

"Last warning - remove your mask, freak!" one guard snarled.

"Or what?" the Reaper demanded to know. Surely they did not expect him to be so stupid as to give in to empty threats. The guard appeared to know this because he scowled and held his tongue. Hei rolled his eyes, completely unimpressed.

November 11 spoke up. "Gentleman, please. Let's be reasonable adults and discuss this without weapons. It's unnecessary."

"We'll decide that," the second guard snapped. "What are you two doing in here?"

"And dressed like that!" challenged the first. The Briton was amused. Yes, he and the Black Reaper must have made quite the cosplay characters, dressed as conspicuously as they were. He exchanged a casual glance with BK-201, a means of imploring him to follow along, and then his crafty mind set to work.

"Allow me to offer a simple explanation," the Briton began. "We were hired to conduct an investigation." The guards both raised their eyebrows, quizzical. They were not at all convinced; even Hei was doubtful of the direction this would head, but he resisted criticism until he could see results.

"Really?" one guard mused, rolling his eyes.

"Who is your authority?"

"What a foolish question," November 11 remarked, chuckling. Hei didn't think that insulting the enemy was a smooth way to get out of danger, but still he kept quiet. "_Your_ authority is our authority. We were hired by this establishment, of course." The Reaper decided that he would answer the question properly before either of the guards had to ask it a second time.

"We work independently," he explained. The guards puzzled gazes shifted from the Black Reaper to November 11 and back again. It was obvious that neither of them knew what to make of the situation anymore. One cleared his throat.

"And what are you investigating?" This question rather surprised both Contractors. Wasn't it obvious?

"We received information regarding a security breach," the Briton continued. "The prison's electricity and security systems both malfunctioned at the same time."

"The inspection concluded that everything was in perfect working order and had no reason to short," the Black Reaper explained matter-of-factly. "My partner and I have reason to believe that the system was hacked and manipulated by an outside party." November 11 was clearly impressed, and kept pace.

"Precisely that, gentlemen," he added. "This little hold up is not benefiting anybody. We would like to conclude our investigation before sunrise."

The Black Reaper surveyed the guards' faces and was doubtful that they fully believed the Contractors' story. His thoughts then turned to the safety of his wife of which he was also quite doubtful. He couldn't imagine the guards allowing them to casually walk out of this situation. He wanted Sora out of the prison before the guards could raise any alarm. He and November 11 were likely already on camera anyway.

"Do you have any leads regarding this mysterious hacker?" Hei rolled his eyes. They were starting to enjoy this, it seemed.

November 11 was quick to respond, "We would, if-"

"It's the Night Reaper," the Black Reaper interrupted. "He must escape the dawn." With this last utterance, it appeared that the guards had had enough. Their demeanor, which had formerly been quite passive, now darkened against the Contractors. Hei had not given consideration to the fact that he was rather dressed as a 'night reaper'. He had no case against their suspicion either, other than that he was in fact the _Black_ Reaper. In sum, he had unwittingly set himself up as the alleged hacker who had disarmed prison security, which was a stupid thing to suggest in a case as critical as this. Still, Hei would rather further endanger himself than call attention to his wife. November 11 could only release an exasperated sigh. He would not succeed in talking their way out of an inference like that.

"That sounds like a threat to me," one guard snarled. The Briton dared one last plea.

"Honestly now, what fool would incriminate himself in an interrogation like this?" he questioned. The Black Reaper scowled at November 11's obvious insult; the MI6 agent had not even bothered an attempt to conceal it. Before either guard had an opportunity to respond, the Reaper answered in their stead.

"This fool." Hei launched his wire around one guard's throat as he raised his rife to defend himself. Waves of electricity traveled along the length of the wire and coursed through the man's veins until he lost consciousness and fell to the floor. Meanwhile, November 11 managed to disarm the other guard with a quick strike to the wrist, and then he struck him across the head with his own gun. That guard too blocked out, and both Contractors sighed.

The Black Reaper gestured for the Briton to follow him, and he quickly jolted the security door, shorting the system. Both men escaped into the prison yard. Hei worried that Sora still might not be alright, but he did not want to get overhasty about contacting her again. Unbeknownst to him, Sora had in fact already escaped the prison and was plotting her route and transportation to the Miyabita Production House.

* * *

><p>The technique of entering and escaping the prison had been effectively mastered, and Yozora expended little energy. Within a few short minutes, she had successfully evaded any remaining workers in the production rooms - the number of which dwindled with every passing hour - and ended up in the loading garage. Her only dilemma proved to be the most significant of them all: acquiring a secure means of transportation off prison grounds and into town. She was still determined to keep Huang out of her plans so long as MI6 was involved with their team, but thus far he had been her sole means of getting from place to place save what they could accomplish on foot.<p>

Yozora could not possibly walk out of there, and certainly not dressed as she was. She'd have to be a fool to consider it let alone attempt it. She was dressed in a very eye-catching jumpsuit complete with mask; even at this hour she would draw attention. Sora had never stolen anything before - most especially not a car - and she couldn't envision herself doing so of her own accord. If she did, she still would not pass through the prison gates without alarm, not an isolated woman leaving a male penitentiary. These options all included dangerous consequences to be avoided.

She had tucked herself between two parked vehicles. Her view, though limited, spread out across the expanse of the garage. She kept her eyes peeled for any sight of Huang just in case, but her main concern was getting out of here.

Sora heard one of the doors leading from the garage to the production room open. Two men exited out into the garage, dragging behind them a number of large, burlap sacks meant to join a host of them heaped into a pile beside a van. These sacks were then deposited into the back of the van. Sora watched the two men with increasing interest and found an opportunity. Though undecided about how she might hitch a ride in this vehicle, she stood. Ducking in between parked vehicles and clinging to the shadows as a Night Reaper must do, she approached the van in anticipation of an opportunity to get inside. She determined that once she managed to climb inside the van, she could easily bury herself amongst the bags out of view. She just needed one moment, a distraction, anything!

Fortune brought her the static buzz of a radio coming to life, and then a clear voice came through in demand of the two men's attentions. One man waved to the other to follow, and they both abandoned their positions for the van cabin. Sora smiled and, drawing up on her toes, rushed to the back of the van. As she hoisted herself inside, the van shifted slightly with her movement, but she hurried to cover herself over with bags rather than wait to find out whether or not the men were suspicious. It appeared they were not concerned about it, however; she heard one man suggest that bags had toppled over, and hadn't he told him to lay them flat?

The men concluded their business in the cabin and returned to the back of the van to finish loading the heavy sacks inside. Once that too was finished, the men shut the doors and drove out of the loading garage entirely unsuspecting of the woman stowing away amongst their cargo.

Sora figured that it would be a good idea to remove her mask in case she were discovered. At least without it she might have the guise of an alluring damsel in distress, rather than a masked assassin. She also took the time to get more comfortable; a lot of weight had been set on her chest, making breathing increasingly difficult. The van continued to bump along and Sora tried to think of what her plan would be to get out of the van and to the Miyabita Production House. She couldn't possibly hope for more convenience; she needed to plan realistically for the fact that it might prove harder to escape the van than it was to enter it. But did she want to mask her face and leap out boldly, or would it be better to go with the innocent damsel in distress option? _I need to take chances!_ Sora told herself adamantly. _My whole life I have been fortunate enough to 'cute' my way out of everything, or to hope that someone would save me. And... _She thought of her husband. _I've been very lucky to have been rescued before. But I need to fight for myself, and I will scare the shit out of these errand boys if nothing else!_

The van was slowing down, Sora suddenly realized. And when it came to a complete stop, the two men wasted no time climbing out of the cabin and throwing open the back doors. Sora stiffened, but she waited to attempt to assess the situation before taking any action, and she found that she was wise to have waited. She could no longer see what was going on around her, her vision completely blocked off with the burlap sacks, so she inconspicuously shifted a few to try and create a peephole.

Sora watched as the two men lifted one sack out of the back and opened it, carrying it off out of view. It was hard to be sure, but it appeared as though they were in an alleyway. When the men came for the second sack, it confirmed her suspicions that they were discarding the contents of these sacks into, she assumed, a large dumpster. After tossing the second empty sack into the van, they shut the doors, and the van proceeded onward. They were likely going to discard the contents of these bags two by two at random sites, and Sora decided that Yozora would take advantage of the next opportunity. That was after she opened up one of the sacks.

The sack was absolutely stuffed with letters and envelopes, but Sora had no time to make any thorough investigation. She grabbed a fistful of letters, and then another, and stuffed them as best she could into her suit. She would have to remember to set aside time to examine them, but she did not make that her primary concern. She would use the next stop they made as her exit cue.

Another couple of miles, and the van did stop again. Yozora secured her mask to her face and drew her blade from her hip, flying wildly out from beneath the bundle of burlap sacks just as the two errand boys opened the van doors. Both men stumbled back at being so abruptly startled, but tried to recover their wits as the graceful and sexy masked woman climbed out of the van.

"Hey!" one yelled. "Grab her!" The other one responded with much more hesitancy. He had never met a creature such as this in real life - she was straight from the pages of a manga!

Yozora was not interested in harming either man, especially not as she was trying to escape with her hands clean. The one who had called the other one to action reached for her, so she thrust out her leg, her foot driving deep into his abdomen. The man doubled over, foaming at the mouth, and his companion drew back voluntarily out of fear. Yozora rushed past him and down the alleyway, going as fast as her legs would carry her until she neared a main road. She removed her mask and slowed her step, clutching the mask to her chest with her left arm, sheathing her blade with the other.

It was still dark outside, fortunately, and it was her hope that though Tokyo was a city that woke early, she still would not call too much attention to herself. Perhaps people would take her for a cosplay girl; lord knew there were enough of those in this city. With ease, she entered a nearby gas station and won the sympathy of the clerk, who offered her his cell phone. Sora called her father's Tokyo suite and made arrangements for a driver to bring a change of clothes, comb, toothbrush, and car to take her to the production house. Glancing out of the mini mart's window, Sora spotted a bench across the street near a park entrance, and she selected that to be their meeting spot.

She spent all of fifteen minutes on the bench in the early morning light before the driver arrived to pick her up. She climbed inside the sleek, black four-door before the driver could get out to open her door for her. In the back seat, she found all of the items she had requested in a large tote of brown leather. Finally feeling relief, she stuffed her mask and blade into the bag and sat back in her seat as the car glided along the Tokyo streets en route to Miyabita.

* * *

><p>Hei and November 11 tucked themselves against the building as they surveyed the prison yard. Daylight was approaching quickly, that they knew, and their time left was decreasing rapidly. After a while, both Contractors released sighs of frustration, and it became apparent that neither of them knew what course of action they had left. If they crossed the prison yard in this state, they would either be seen by the guards in the towers or caught on camera; they did not have the benefit of commotion as Yozora had before when November 11 had rescued her. And of course, there was still Yozora to worry about. Had she heeded Hei's warning? Had she even understood him?<p>

"We'd probably do well to contact Huang and the others," November 11 suggested. Hei agreed without word to the Briton.

"Mao, where are you?" The two men waited impatiently, but it was not long before Mao responded to Hei's inquiry.

"I just finished speaking with Huang," the cat explained. "I'm inside the warden's office in search of files, and I don't have much time in here. Yozora's gone." November 11 watched as Hei's eyes widened with alarm.

"What?" he demanded icily, infuriated. "Gone where? What happened to her?"

"So far as I know, nothing has happened to her," Mao replied. "She made me tell her the truth about the mission. She gave me my assignment, and then she took off without telling me where she was going."

"Mao, how could you-"

"And it's probably better that MI6 does not find out that we're ahead of them," Mao warned. "If I had to guess, that is Yozora's reasoning for taking off in secret. And that was what you told her to do, right? 'The Night Reaper must escape the dawn?'" Hei tried to calm himself. He did tell Sora to get out of the prison, but he didn't know that she'd be running off on her own theories. She could dig herself into deeper trouble!

"And what are you doing?" Hei asked the cat.

"Looking for any documentation on the substance. It's part of her theory."

"Damn it."

"Hei, are you even in the CA block?"

"The sun's coming up, and November 11 is in that Godforsaken white suit," Hei responded, his frustration apparent. "I don't think we'll make it there without being seen."

"What the hell have you been doing all this time?" Hei looked to November 11 and rolled his eyes at the Briton's distinct frown. His eyes seemed to say 'What do you mean, Godforsaken?'

"We were held up, which is another problem," Hei muttered. "We might need to plan a more direct route to the CA block."

"So basically, Yozora is the only one getting anything done?" Hei refused to respond. There was no way in hell his inexperienced wife was better at this job than he was. He balked at the suggestion. And truthfully, Mao himself confessed he had no idea where she was or what she was doing. How could he suggest that she had achieved anything, or that she was safe?

"Hei? Don't worry about her," Mao said after silence ensued. "The sun's rising, just get back to the van." Hei turned to November 11 and sighed heavily.

"Our efforts thus far have been a failure?" the Briton asked. Hei didn't respond to that either.

"Don't you have any government connections that can get us inside?" he asked.

"I'm not sure I would extend that service to the Syndicate," November 11 said casually. "We're not on the same team." "But we are working together, you idiot." Didn't November 11 see that he was inhibiting himself this way also? That didn't matter though. Hei decided that he was not leaving the prison until he had taken even a peek at the Special CA block. No matter what.

"Huang, I need a prison guard ID," he muttered into his mouthpiece, turning back to the door through which he and November 11 had entered the prison yard. November 11 hesitantly followed after him until the Black Reaper restrained him. "No, you get back to the van. You're in my way."

With a scowl, the Briton insisted, "You are not getting into that block without me."

"Yes, I am."

"A badge?" Huang asked, confused. Hei had jolted the security again and had entered the prison. He was now trying to shut the Briton outside, and he, of course, was resisting.

"Just trust me," Hei snarled. "Go back to the van."

"Trust you?" Huang asked.

"Not you. November 11, go meet Huang and the others." The Briton reluctantly released the door handle but jammed his foot between the door and its frame as a stopper.

"It's safer to pass through the building, no?" he asked the Reaper, relenting. The Black Reaper stepped aside, and November 11 entered the building and quickly disappeared as he had been asked to.

"I need an ID badge, Huang," Hei explained to his teammate once the Briton had gone. He turned to one of the unconscious guards on the ground, grateful that no one had spotted them, and that neither guard had gained consciousness in the short span of time. He knelt beside one and reached for his collar, undoing the buttons on his shirt. "I'm going undercover. It's the best way to get to the Special CA block without drawing attention to myself."

"You were disguised as a prisoner before and it did you no good," Huang grumbled. _Why is everyone opposing me today?_ Hei wondered silently.

"This is a better option," he said confidently. "I'll need a badge soon. Best send it with Mao, and in the meantime I'll look as busy as possible to keep people's suspicions at bay."

"You're asking me to do complicated things in a limited amount of time," Huang argued. "And I'm pissed as hell at that woman of yours. You're both being difficult."

"Damn it, Huang! The time you waste with this conversation is precious time that could be better spent fulfilling this mission. I want this over with the same as you, especially for Yozora's sake." Hei was fighting to keep his voice down and was hissing like a tea kettle while fumbling to undress the guard. He still hadn't decided where he was going to put the man either.

"Mao is busy, so you'll have to come here once we have an ID ready," Huang replied after some time. Hei did not respond, and busied himself with disrobing the guard. He would need to administer ME, and he would need a proper place to leave the guard so that he might think it plausible to wake up naked. Perhaps Hei could leave the guard in a bathroom. However, there were those cameras to contend with also...

"Hei, the cameras are down," Mao abruptly announced. "I'm leaving the warden's office now, and they could be back any minute. That's how long you have."

The Black Reaper stood up straight and surveyed the area for the closest bathroom, and after achieving that, he hoisted the disrobed guard up and slung his body over his shoulder. He carried the man and his clothes to the restroom, leaving the other guard where he was.

Now properly dressed, he ensured that neither guard would remember his face, and was pleased to be able to say that he had completely infiltrated the prison.

* * *

><p>Sora's car swiftly maneuvered into the Miyabita garage and came to a stop just outside the back entrance. Before the driver could step around to open the door for her though, she climbed out of the car, her prepared tote bag on her shoulder. The man bowed apologetically, but Sora assured him with a comforting smile that she was not upset, and headed straight for the back entrance. On the doorframe was a remnant of crime tape from Section Four's former visit, and Sora ignorantly tried the handle to find that it was locked as it should be. The driver rushed forward with a key and unlocked the building for her.<p>

"Thank you," Sora said kindly. "Please wait for me, alright? I will try not to take long."

"Yes, miss."

Sora wandered down the darkened hallways toward the dressing rooms reserved for models. She knew this building through and through, even in the dark, and did not bother turning on any lights. The dressing rooms were straight down the hall leading from the garage entrance anyway, and were, in fact, the very same set in which she had been stripped and bathed and redressed when Ichiro had her brought here to launch _Sakura_ by Kanbi. Despite that, she had no intention of drawing up negative memories. That was not why she was here. She selected a room at random and immediately freed herself of her jumpsuit and boots, climbing into the shower.

When Sora finally emerged from the dressing room, she was dressed as someone who was supposed to be there. She wore dark jeans, a black and white, striped blazer, and high heels; she now outwardly displayed her social status. Of course, there was no one around to make such observations, and she wanted to ensure that that remained the case until she could thoroughly investigate the machine in the basement. Which was her next destination.

The basement entrance was much darker and harder to navigate than the rest of the building, so Sora opted to activate the floodlights below before descending the stairs. The atmosphere of the basement completely transformed when flooded in light - it was not nearly as eerie and mysterious - but Sora could see quite clearly... that the machine was _gone_. Instantly, anguish and humiliation swept over her as she stood in the empty expanse where the mysterious machine had formerly sat. Spinning around in dizzy circles, she hoped that she was only deceived, that her memory had simply misplaced the machine's location, but those efforts were in vain. Her plan had failed. _She_ had failed. She had desired to conquer the Syndicate's mission, bring her husband home again, collapse into the comfort of her own bed in her own home. Now she felt like screaming.

However, Sora could not yet give up. This was a setback, but if she gave in to depression and defeat, then she would really never get to go home with Hei. Realizing that, the young woman set to Plan B. She began scouring the basement floor and storage for anything she could find that might supply a clue to her investigation. No corner was left unchecked as she crawled on her hands and knees, as she forced open cabinets and files, but nothing apart from Miyabita business documents were uncovered. Her work, though aggressive, was fruitless.

The woman dragged her tired and depressed body over to her leather tote and collapsed on top of it, a heap of despair. Her chest thundered against the bag as she fought to breathe, and she felt herself near to hyperventilation under the stress. There were no windows in this basement, and Sora had stumbled upon no clocks so she had little clue as to what time it was, but she no longer cared. She could fall asleep right here on the floor in her nice clothes now covered in dust. _Can I give up yet?_

All of a sudden, Sora remembered the stash of papers she had collected from the burlap sacks in the prison van. The mysterious machine was gone, and its owner or owners had not left behind any other evidence, but she still had the letters the prison had taken such care to scatter about the city. She still had those. And she still had her husband whom she had vowed to bring home.

Sora burst out of the garage entrance to the Miyabita Production House and hopped into the waiting car. The driver took care to hurry and lock the door again, but as soon as he was seated in the driver's position, he was given clear instructions.

"I need to see my father," Sora said coldly. "Take me to the Shizuoka estate."


	12. Then, There is Progress

**CHAPTER TWELVE: THEN, THERE IS PROGRESS**

Hei made several attempts to contact Sora, but they were all in vain. His first instinct was to worry about her safety, and his stomach thrashed about his belly in response to this. It did not help that he was both sleep deprived and hungry, either. And as he sat on a lone bench in the recreation room, watching guards saunter past and cast nonchalant glances at him, he felt his energy leaving him. The stimulation from adrenaline had diminished, and he was left in a broken, exhausted shell of a man. At some point he managed to draw on his rationality and remind himself that Sora seemed to think that she knew something that the rest of the team did not know, and therefore could be ignoring all contact until she could confirm her theories. But where would those theories take her? If she was not in danger now, could she be sometime soon?

"You new here?" a guard asked, approaching him. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a muscular build. He was much older than Hei was, likely more than twice his age, and Hei observed graying hair beneath the man's cap. His overall demeanor was friendly though his gaze was calculating, urging Li up onto his feet.

"I'm pretty obvious, aren't I?" Li mumbled, scratching his temple nervously. The guard relaxed and even managed a small smile.

"I had to ask," he said. "You don't have a badge."

"I, uh... it's the strangest thing, isn't it?"

"How did you even get in?" Li smiled sheepishly.

"I guess security's not so hard to clear here," he replied. The other guard raised an eyebrow. Then he chuckled.

"Don't tell the prisoners that!"

"Seems like they might already know," Li said darkly. The guard's demeanor hardened again, and he chose not to respond to this comment.

"Tell me your name," he said. "I can look you up in the system."

"Li Shengshun," Hei answered readily. The guard gestured for Li to follow him, and led him down the hall to the warden's offices just off the recreation room. Li was encouraged to seat himself at an empty station. Without offering a word, the guard pointed to his badge, which Li leaned in to read. _Takero Umizaki. Warden._ Takero then set himself at a computer and proceeded to search for Li's name in the employee registry. Hei silently hoped that Huang had managed to at least achieve that much in the time he had wasted sitting around the recreation room. His eyes casually roamed the room in observations looking for anything beneficial to the investigation.

The office was small, just a narrow expanse lined with desks and computers on both sides. A path was left in between the rows for walking, and at the very end of the pathway was a collection of mismatched file cabinets. Surveillance monitors ran along the left wall above the computer desks, and a few scattered men monitored prison activity this way. Hei's eyes fell on one eerie looking individual who sat huddle over the control panel for surveillance. He wanted to make sure he spoke to him, the man who could literally see everything everywhere. In general, the decor left much to be desired, though Hei had not expected much from the establishment in the first place. He was certain they had far greater causes for concern than interior design, especially in light of the recent breach of security.

"Shengshun, right? How do you spell it?"

"S-H-E-N-G-S-H-U-N."

"From China, huh?" Li frowned. He had figured the name gave it away.

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. It seems that you don't have a photograph on record though." Hei couldn't decide whether he ought to play dumb or own it.

"I must have missed my appointment for it," Li said innocently. "I was hired in kind of a rushed manner. My uniform doesn't even fit properly..." Takero nodded his understanding.

"I've got a camera here for this sort of mistake," he explained. "Stand up against the wall there where it's clear and I'll take your photo for you." Li obeyed this command and, his photo taken, he waited some more until Takero could load it into the system. Takero then drew up a temporary pass to give Li clearance about the prison.

"I have rounds to make, so why don't you let Inga show you how surveillance works?" Takero suggested. Li looked to the man called Inga, a short man with blonde hair and extremely pale skin. Just the man with whom he had hoped to have an interview. He resisted chuckling, for this man did not outwardly appear to belong in a place as dark and dangerous as this.

"Sure," he agreed. Inga quietly waved him over, and Li approached to stand over him. He looked down at the control panel for the surveillance system and was a little intimidated by the obvious complexity of the process.

"Have you worked here long?" Li asked. The blonde man's cold eyes darted up in his direction skeptically, then returned to surveying the monitors.

"Not necessarily," Inga replied. "About five years."

"It must have taken quite a while to master all this equipment."

"Only for an amateur," Inga scoffed. Li frowned. He hated these types of people.

"I suppose that's true," he said sheepishly. Inga glanced up at him again for a brief moment. "It's like Big Brother in here; you must know everyone's dark secrets."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Not... really. It was just a comment."

"There's only one rule for new kids like you," Inga warned. "Ask too many questions and you'll be the our next 'dark secret.' Got it?" Li rose an eyebrow and took a seat beside Inga, offering a bashful smile.

"I'm here to learn." Inga scratched his temple and leaned forward in his seat, his lanky frame balanced on his elbows. Though an obvious devotee to his work, the man did not appear to be particularly intrigued by anything. In fact, it was as if anything and everything was more likely to elicit annoyance above any other possible emotion. Hei could not completely keep up with this strange character, but he realized that he did not have to. He understood the gist of how Inga worked, and he had little concern for why it was Inga behaved the way he did.

"So you only monitor one block here?" Li asked.

"We're only responsible for one block," was Inga's response. Hei saw through it immediately. Inga openly helped himself to footage from other blocks, though whether he had to hack the surveillance system or simply knew what station to tune in to was a mystery to Hei. He had a small suspicion about this man, and he wanted to be sure to contact the team for background info. While his face was turned toward the monitors, he inconspicuously shifted his gaze to read Inga's badge. _Sushiro._

"Do you ever monitor the prison yard?" Li pressed daringly. The computer expert smiled wickedly.

"You know the answer to that, don't you?"

"I noticed that there's a separate building out beyond the yard."

"It's off limits."

"I figured as much," Li admitted. "Do they house special prisoners there?"

"You're asking too many questions, Shengshun," Inga warned coldly. Li nodded his understanding.

"I apologize," he said. "You can't help but be curious in a place like this, although I suppose to someone who has continuous view of everything here that might get boring after a while."

"Technology is really all that fascinates me. The day-to-day life of prisoners is not an amusing subject for anyone, I can assure you."

"I'll bet that observing how the prison is operated down to its lowest levels is uniquely interesting though," Li challenged. Inga sighed and nonchalantly altered some dials and settings on the control pad. A flew dead screens flickered to life, while other screens' views changed. Li glanced up at the developments, then looked to Inga again.

"You think you're sneaky, don't you?" Inga asked, looking into Li's eyes. Li calmly averted his gaze and shrugged.

"No, just curious," was his response.

"I confess to nothing, Shengshun. But you may make your own conclusions." Hei decided he could spare a few moments to get comfortable and watch the monitors with his new companion. Later, he would be sure to contact Mao for more information regarding the mysterious Sushiro Inga.

* * *

><p>Sora sat back in her desk chair and stared down impatiently at her house slippers. She had already informed the staff that she wished to see her father in the gallery offices upstairs, but Kanbimura was already engaged in a business meeting off the premises. That left her to wait until her father both concluded his meeting and returned home, and his secretary had already declared herself unable to estimate how long it would take for this to be fulfilled. Sora did not want much more time to pass before she could contact the team and inform them of her findings, but she knew that she would not hear the end of it from Huang should she make contact prematurely.<p>

Sora spun around in her chair to look about her gallery. She still did her painting and marketing from these offices because of the luxurious expanse. Back in Tokyo, she had grown accustomed to painting in the tiny spare bedroom of her apartment, and she had a slightly larger space in the home she shared with Hei, but this was really the best of her former options. There was open space enough not only to paint but to display her work, as well as a professional office corner to conduct other business from; it was the last bit of luxury she dared to completely indulge in. She loved her gallery.

The sun was shining gloriously through the large windows in the opposite end of the room. Feeling that internal chill that accompanies uncertainty, a craving for sunshine pounded in her brain, and she decided to vacate her office space, trading it for the floor beside the glass wall. She dragged her leather bag with her and took a seat beside the glass wall. The warmth of the sun bathed the panes, which then transferred to Sora's thin body tucked against the glass. She dug through her bag to retrieve the stash of papers from the prison, and giving them a first, solid once-over since confiscating them, she realized they might not be useful to her after all. The papers were covered in complex formulas and lists of what seemed like medicinal ingredients, all presented in an illegible scrawl. _I'll need a pharmacist to read this!_ she thought, her internal temperature rising. She was back to feeling as though the universe were conspiring against her once more.

But Sora knew that she could not yet give up. She had responsibilities to uphold, and perhaps with a little devotion, she could isolate something important. Asserting herself, she set each one of the papers face up on the floor so that she had a view of each one. With fatigue, her eyes began to irritate her, but she tried to block out her discomfort. The scrawl, unfortunately, did not become any clearer with time, so again Sora had to redirect her efforts.

Given what she could see - numbers and what seemed like names of medicines - Sora dared to assume that these were notes from experiments with the design and manufacture of the drug. Taking that much into account, she realized that she might be able to do more research if she could actually read the names of the ingredients. Doctors were strangely notorious for their terrible penmanship on prescription pads, but they passed these prescriptions to other doctors and pharmacists who managed to determine, locate, and administer the correct medicine in the correct dosage. Sora could not figure how that was; to her it seemed like an easy way to make costly mistakes, but she was no doctor. And even she was aware of the increase in the number of malpractice suits filed each year.

Who could she ask for help? She was not especially familiar with any doctors, and she couldn't possible saunter into the nearest drug store and inquire of the staff. They would think she was crazy, or a criminal, and if they found out who she was, her name would be in the paper to boot. She needed private assistance. But from whom? Then it occurred to Sora that she _did_ know a doctor sworn to secrecy, one who was paid handsomely for it. _Otousan's private doctor!_ Kanbimura was an exceptionally private man by nature, but his concern for privacy grew more and more as a public figure. And men had a natural skepticism for the medical professionals anyway. Kanbimura's trust in Dr. Hokuta was founded on a pile of money, built up and strengthened by years of excellent service and loyalty.

Using her father's private doctor would ensure confidentiality, and with the names alone, Sora could complete her research online if need be. She released a sigh of relief and a wave of self-satisfaction passed over her. All she needed now was her interview with her father. If he could hurry home from his meeting, the puzzle pieces would begin shifting back into place.

"In the meantime, at least, I can get the doctor's number from Otousan's secretary, or another member of staff..." Sora returned to her office and picked up the landline, dialing out to the staff offices downstairs. After a brief exchange with the head of staff, she had Dr. Hokuta's phone number jotted down on a sticky note, as well as the address of his weekend clinic, should she not be able to reach him. However, Sora had no desire to place blind phone calls, and did not think it wise to go anywhere else with the papers on her person. She still had not decided how best to explain her suspicious collection of notes either. Dr. Hokuta was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality, wasn't he? Sora reflected on Contractor techniques and recalled their use of memory erasal. She wanted to believe that Dr. Hokuta would honor his legal oath, but just in case, she figured she might find a way to contact Mao discreetly to assist her. She knew that she couldn't do it herself.

Sora's next phone call went to the doctor's home, and she managed to convey her urgency without giving away any particularly compromising details. He agreed to meeting with her quietly and told her to expect him within the hour, which pleased Sora immensely. In anticipation of his arrival, she organized the prison notes across her desk face up so that they could all be viewed at once, and placed another call to the house staff to brew a fresh pot of coffee. _I'm going to bring Hei home. I'm going to bring Hei home._ She recited this over and over in her head as her tiring blue eyes bounced back and forth between the papers and the ticking clock.

The phone atop the desk began to ring, and Sora snatched it up eagerly. "Yes?"

"Dr. Hokuta is here and he claims to have an appointment with you," came the head of staff's voice. Sora rolled his eyes.

"Then most certainly he does," she said. She could not even be bothered to mask her irritation. "Let him in and escort him to the gallery, thank you." She hung up without waiting for a response. _Didn't I just request his phone number a half hour ago?_ _And where is the coffee?_

Minutes later, Dr. Hokuta and a staff member appeared at the office door, the servant with a pot of coffee and a service laid out on a tray. Sora let both men in, insisting Dr. Hokuta take the guest seat at her desk while the servant put the tray down on the small, round serving table that sat beside it. The servant immediately excused himself, and Sora sat down at the desk in front of the doctor, gesturing to the coffee service.

"Can I help you to anything?" she asked. The doctor cleared his throat and sat up stiffly. _Why is he so uncomfortable?_

"I don't normally appreciate coffee past the morning hours, but I think I'll make an exception," Hokuta replied after a short while. Sora rose an eyebrow, and the doctor added, "Thank you."

Steam wafted up around Sora's hand as the rich, dark liquid spilled into the cup, the scent of fresh beans accompanying it. She sat the small cup in front of the doctor, then gestured to the different creams and sugar cubes. He rejected them all, and sipped at his little cup black. Sora was not partial to such bitter flavor; her love of coffee was really the love of the different flavored syrups and creams that could be added to it. She helped herself to hazelnut creamer with a light drizzle of chocolate syrup before laying a finger down on one of the pieces of paper. Hokuta leaned forward, still stiff, and took a glance at the scribbles.

"What is this?" he asked, frowning.

"I believe they're drugs or the ingredients for a drug," Sora explained. "I want you to tell me what they do." Hokuta lowered his cup of coffee to the desk and withdrew a pair of reading glasses from his coat. He leaned forward again and examined the writings more carefully this time, and once he had finished he sat up straight again.

"Why do you need to know?"

"That's not what you're paid for, Dr. Hokuta," Sora scolded firmly.

"These are very, very concentrated doses," he said, pointing to the numbers. "Even if they're to scale with a large order, these levels are near poisonous, and could make the patient extremely ill - fatally ill. I must first advise you not to play around with such things."

"It isn't me," Sora insisted. Hokuta seemed skeptical but mostly willing to believe her.

"There is iron here, as well as an odor eliminator, and this is a formula for a liquid to gas mixture, presumably to produce an inhalant. It's incomplete, or flawed - I don't think these are the only notes," Hokuta explained, gesturing to each as he listed them. Sora withheld her knowledge of the several sacks full of papers that had by now been discarded throughout Tokyo. "The compound for greatest concern is this." Sora looked to where his finger had landed and frowned up at him.

"Yes?"

"This shifts the molecules in the blood... like a magnet."

"Why would that - What could one do with that ability?"

"Without knowing completely what the medicine is supposed to do, I cannot help you. But I wouldn't doubt that there are many more ingredients involved in this drug, as well as a complex manufacturing process." Sora sighed in frustration. To get a complete diagnosis, Sora would probably require the bulk of those papers thrown away. She had lucked out with having this much information, but she did not come away with knowledge of how the drug was developed, administered, or anything else of the sort.

_Why would they need to alter blood? That doesn't make sense, does it?_

"So you won't tell me how you came across these or to whom they belong?" Sora shook her head.

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't tell you." The doctor nodded solemnly and reached for his cup of coffee.

"And what is this about, Sora?" Both Sora and Hokuta started and looked up to meet the cold, dark eyes of Kanbimura. He was still in a stiff, black suit with a striped, gold tie. Though he spoke in an authoritative tone, he did not appear the least bit angry but instead curious and confused. Sora stood up and wrapped her arms lovingly about her father's neck. She felt as though she had been away from him for many months rather than days, and she always felt this unique wave of peace pass over her when she was around him.

"I needed Dr. Hokuta's help with some formulas," she muttered, unsure of how to explain herself to her father.

"So you're a chemist now?" Kanbimura mused, looking down at the papers from over Hokuta's shoulder. Hokuta cleared his throat.

"Kanbimura," the doctor said, standing and then bowing. Kanbimura bowed as well before turning to his daughter. He did not have to speak again. Sora knew he was waiting for an acceptable response to his question, and she also knew that she did not have it.

"Uh, Otousan, I..." his daughter stammered lamely. "I do need your help with something, but we can't talk about it freely. It's like before. _He's_ involved." Kanbimura stood up taller, his gaze gently passing across the room toward the glass wall and the light that shone through. He appeared to know that Sora was referring to the Black Reaper, but he did not like it one bit.

"Are you through with Dr. Hokuta's services?" Sora bit her lip.

"I... think so," she muttered. "Thank you for coming, doctor. I really appreciate your help."

"It's always a pleasure to see you," Hokuta replied politely. "Remember what I told you about these chemicals though. Please be careful not to fool around with things like these!" Sora nodded her response, irritated to be treated like such a child in the first place. However, she did take the doctor's concerns seriously. He would know better than she what these drugs were capable of and of the risks involved. Not only that, but he did seem somewhat convinced that Sora might be handling this concoction herself which was sure to horrify any medical professional.

Staff was phoned in to escort Hokuta off of the premises, and this allowed Sora and her father to talk just a bit more openly about the current predicament Sora now found herself in. She had always felt more bonded to Kanbimura than anyone else prior to being ostracized from her family, and though Hei now primarily fulfilled that responsibility, she still felt that special connection to Kanbimura. That always made it twice as difficult to cross him or disappoint him, and Sora could hardly stand to explain any of this to him.

"You're a married woman now, aren't you?" Kanbimura said with his usual skepticism, helping himself to some fresh coffee. "I thought you had rejected most of this obsession of yours."

"It's... I... I love Li," Sora said exasperatedly. "That's not what this is about."

"So what is it about? My secretary said it was urgent I get home to speak with you."

"It still is." Sora swallowed hard. "Does... Okaasan still have joint - or sole - ownership of anything in the company?" Kanbimura furrowed his brow and set his cup down very purposefully.

"I've managed to remove her presence from each of our ventures with the exception of one piece of property," he replied. "I've prepared a fund for her, as part of our divorce agreement, that she may use to care for herself whenever they finally release her from prison. I will not allow your mother to go without." Sora was pleased to hear this, but...

"I was never really worried about that," she admitted. "Which property does she still have access to?"

"The Miyabita Production House in Tokyo." Sora sat up straight. It was precisely what she wanted to hear.

"Did you give it to her or do you have joint ownership?"

"Sora, it's _my _business," Kanbimura replied. "Of course we share ownership."

"But Okaasan still has rights."

"Yes."

"I think she's renting out the basement to a secret branch of government out to eliminate Contractors!" Sora exclaimed, standing up from her chair. Kanbimura, famous for his face of stone, could not hide his confusion. Sora cupped her hand over her mouth.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She sat back down.

"I can't tell you," she whispered uncomfortably.

"You have to," her father snarled. "If you mother is authorizing business there without consulting me first, it is a direct violation of our agreement and-"

"For a change, can you get your head out of Miyabita's ass!" Sora couldn't believe she had said that out loud. Her heart swelled up so quickly she was sure it had crushed a lung, and she suffered all this beneath her father's cold stare.

"Excuse me," he said. His voice was surprisingly calm. "You're... right. Something is obviously bothering you, and I can throw the contract at your mother another time."

"Otousan, I'm sorry."

"Please explain to me what you were talking about before." Sora nodded.

"I went to the production house a couple of days ago for reasons I cannot explain - I was with Kirihara from the Public Security Division - and there was a giant machine set up in the basement. By that time it was empty but I think the Black Reaper was held hostage inside-"

"What sort of machine, Sora?"

"Um, I can't say for sure what it does though I now have some theories thanks to Hokuta." Sora proceeded to describe the machine with as much detail as she possibly could. Ultimately though, Kanbimura remained as puzzled as before.

"I didn't tell Misaki what I had found, but when I went back today, the machine was gone. No one could have just waltzed in there with something like that, so I assume they were granted access and permission to build/store it there. And if you didn't do that, then it had to have been Okaasan, no?" Kanbimura sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Aren't you tired of getting mixed up in things like this?" he asked. "I figured you would have settled down with Li somewhere quiet to free yourself of all this nonsense. Speaking of which, how does he feel about all this?" Sora sighed.

"About the same as you do."

"He's a smarter man than I thought," Kanbimura muttered. "But if this is really important to you, perhaps you ought to schedule a visit to the prison to interrogate your mother. Ought to be something she's used to by now. Or visit that hideous Reaper."

"What will you do?"

"I need to draw up the legal ramifications for your mother's offense. And while you're at it, keep me posted on the developments. We may need to press more charges." Sora sighed. She absolutely deplored the idea of further incriminating her mother. She did not care for her mother, but with maturity she had come to realize how worthless hate and vengeance were. However, she could understand how violated her father felt as well, given that his business and connections were once again being abused by his former spouse.

"Do you still love her?" Sora asked her father. Kanbimura stood and kissed his daughter's cheek.

"I loved her for a reason," he admitted, "and I divorced her for a reason. However, I can say with certainty that I did not divorce your mother because I stopped loving her." Sora smiled sadly as she embraced him. _He thinks he's too strong to cry, but I wish he would. I can see the sadness in his eyes waiting to be set free._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please see my livejournal page for some important news updates regarding future chaptersuploading schedule. Sorry things have been pretty irregular as of late. I'm taking care of that though.**

**My LJ name is creative_kiss. Contact me via PM if you are unfamiliar.**


	13. Hei Escapes

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: HEI ESCAPES**

Someone's brilliant mind could make a glass tomb a romantic element in the hero's quest, but for Hei it was a humiliating display with sparse air. The glass itself was illuminated in light that originated in the base of his box, but all space surrounding the giant unit was swallowed up by darkness so illogically thick it made Hei feel ill. It was rare for him to be especially intimidated; he could see past his fear to navigate a way out of danger, but this was different. He had been taken captive by an unidentifiable person or organization and sealed away in an unknown location inside of a glass box with only a small trap door available through which meager rations of food and water passed. They were keeping him alive, but he did not know why.

A frigid voice sometimes wove through the darkness and stung deep into Hei's weak mind, a voice that taunted him, threatened him; a voice with a wicked, echoing laugh. The voice dove into the glass prison and insisted that Hei give up his allies and the details of his mission. He never complied, but as the months wore on, he began to feel haunted to his very core by the tireless persistence of his watcher.

A mission that had begun so simply had rapidly transformed into a formidable situation where each day his life was in the hands of another. Hei tried to focus his mind and energies to analyzing his predicament and identifying a solution, but as any loving husband, he could not stop thinking of his wife, Sora. What would she do without him? What was she doing? Had she given into despair yet? Had she given up? Was she looking for him or mourning him? He loved her to the depth of his soul, and had never doubted it though he now understood how powerfully this love permeated every fiber of his conscience. Being held hostage agonized him solely because of his love for Sora. Not exhaustion, not hunger, not confusion could have this great effect on his body. Only her.

That's not to say that he was not hungry. His body was weakened with starvation and his muscles were diminishing without regular exercise. He was a prisoner through and through; sick from famine and sick in love.

Powerless. He had hated being a Contractor for so long, but it was in situations like these that he valued his abilities. And after so many years, he could barely remember what it was like to be without them. He was not familiar with this kind of uselessness.

The voice tried to erode his sense of loyalty to the Syndicate. It tried to make Hei feel as though he held no value to them, that his life was discarded either way. It was a tired trick, one the Contractor imagined he himself had used on other hostages before. He had always known and had considered himself disposable to the Syndicate; it was why the voice's trick did not move him. For the first time though, he could dare to retort, his patience splintered away fiber by fiber.

"Have you ever heard of such a thing?" Hei mused. "No one values Contractors."

Filler conversation. Hei started to drift away until the word "vixen" surfaced. He knew immediately that the voice was speaking of Sora, though it did not appear to have any detailed information about her other than the mask she wore. What was she doing in the prison? Did Huang, Mao, or Yin know what she was doing? Why would they let her do something so dangerous? Still, the Contractor's face turned to stone, and he pretended to be intrigued but not concerned with this information.

"What does a copycat have to do with me?" Hei asked coolly. The voice's perverse laugh danced about the prism and ricocheted. "What are you planning to do to her?" As the laughter subsided, Hei's exhausted eyelids lifted and he watched as a television screen lowered itself from indistinguishable space, the glow of its pixels distinct from its blackened backdrop. The glare nearly blinded him, but as his eyes adjusted, he could see that it was a surveillance feed from the prison yard.

The prison yard was completely flooded in chaos, and at the center was a slender woman in a black jumpsuit and boots, her face hidden behind the Black Reaper's mask. Sora was indeed Hei's copycat, and she clutched Mao's little body to her chest. Prisoners were rushing out of the prison to freedom and forming a large mob around Sora, the appeal blatantly obvious. How long had it been since any of these men had set eyes on a living, tangible, alluring woman? The camera's view was not zoomed in enough to pick up any emotion, and the Reaper's mask would have concealed any facial expressions, but Hei could imagine his young wife frightened beyond any possible relief.

"Worried yet?" the voice asked in a sickeningly cheerful voice. Hei cringed, his brow rapidly moistening with fear.

"You know that she's a copycat," he snarled. "She's not a threat to anyone!"

"So you do know this girl," the voice mused. "How tragic. There's nothing I can do now." There was nothing Hei could do to stop the cruel man, nothing he could say could undo the prisoners' release. How had this happened to him? He thought he had been careful to protect Sora from the hazards of his occupation, but still she had been brought to sacrifice. Perhaps they never stood a chance. Hei hung his head in agony, grateful that audio did not accompany the video feed. He could not bear the pain of watching such a vile fate befall the woman he loved, and the guilt would eat away at him until there was nothing left. He knew this. The pain was already torturing his ailed body.

"What the hell?" the voice snarled. Hei's eyes immediately flicked upward, full of hope.

November 11.

The prisoners had all been sealed in ice as an avante gard form of art, and Sora and Mao remained unharmed as the Briton approached them. Hei despised November 11, and he certainly had no desire to see the man near Sora, but he was thankful that he had arrived on the scene and had taken the consideration to act. For now, his wife was unharmed, albeit traumatized.

Now there was a new desperation growing inside of Hei. He had almost lost his wife in a most despicable way, and that realization fueled his body and his conscience. He absolutely had to escape. Climbing to his feet, Hei began to examine his prism for a clue, anything that might give him a greater concept of how this machine functioned. From the inside it appeared to be nothing but a lit box, yet it left him nearly incapacitated. How did it do that?

There was silence for what felt like an eternity. Hei considered the possibility that his captors had left the room, as they frequently did, but he didn't hear anyone exit. On the screen, guards were shuffling about the frozen prisoners with confused faces, trying to put together what had happened and also what they might do about it. Some trucks had been driven out onto the yard, and prison staff worked with difficulty to pick up and carefully lower men into the truck beds to drive them back to the prison. It was time-consuming and largely unfruitful work, work that Hei was not interested in. His mind wandered off to other topics, and soon he had more or less blocked the bright screen from his mind. That was until the screen began rising silently up to the ceiling in a similar fashion to its arrival. The voice then began to chuckle.

"You want to know, don't you?" it taunted.

"You're awfully smug for someone who just watched his own plan fall apart," Hei retorted. He was feeling confident now that another Contractor besides Mao was responsible for Sora, provided he wasn't giving November 11 too much credit. He didn't know why the Briton had rescued Sora and Mao, but Hei vowed to one day ask that very question.

"She's not a threat to anyone here," the voice replied. "Clearly, you're the only one who values her. What difference does it make to me if she lives or dies?" It was a true enough statement, but still cruel enough to boil Hei's blood.

"But I'll tell you how our little prize here operates," the voice said. "I know it's typical for the villain to monologue in the anticipation that afterward his audience will be dead, but I'm not worried. You're not the sort of man who can fly off the radar. We'll find you, or your pretty lover. There's _always_ a price to be paid."

"The compound you're manufacturing," Hei concluded. "That's what this is really about."

"Exactly. That compound contains iron, as well as another concentrated dose of a substance only recently developed that allows the molecules in your blood to shift with a little unique force. With those molecules shifted, the other ingredients in the compound get to work, rendering your powers mostly inaccessible."

"It wears off though."

"You've noticed that we have to dose you regularly."

"It's why you've bothered feeding me at all," Hei said, relieved to find things finally making sense. "You don't need me alive, not really. It would be useful for you to know who I'm working for, but really you're just an opportunist."

"Why waste guinea pigs? You came to us, after all."

"There is more than one genius?"

"Don't appeal to my pride," the voice warned. "That won't work."

"But there are still flaws in your drug," Hei said daringly. "For instance, its effects are more than temporary."

"For now."

Hei had one last card to play, so he wasn't intent upon wasting any more time in conversation with this creature. He knew his method would carry severe risks, and all that without the guarantee of it functioning properly. All of his energy needed to be concentrated on this one thing. He knew he was thinking awfully high of himself, but when one had nothing else to try and everything to be lost, one would hold back nothing. Seeing Sora, even from an unfathomable distance, was enough kindling to get any fire started.

Pressing a lone hand to his chest, he resorted to an option so rarely used it was nearly forgotten. It was his ability to alter matter on the quantum level. If drugs could shift the molecules in his blood, then why shouldn't he be able to accomplish the same thing? His body slowly began to glow blue, synchrotron radiation distinctly outlining his features, and warmth began to flood his bloodstream. Then came excruciating pain. Hei fought back the impulse to cry out but lost, and as he dropped to his knees he released a devastating scream. It was as though he could feel the energy tugging at the very depth of his insides.

A face suddenly appeared from the darkness and pressed itself against the glass, two hands on either side of it. "What are you doing?" the face demanded angrily. Hei tumbled backward from shock, his hand leaving his chest to break his fall. The air in his lungs had temporarily left him.

Living for six months in darkness, he had expected to be prepared for any sudden lunges from the shadows, but evidently the opposite results had occurred. Staring at the face contorted and flattened against the thick pane, Hei found himself more susceptible than ever before. The man began to peel his face from the surface of the glass, his eyes still filled with anger and confusion.

"What are you doing?" the man demanded again. Hei did not bother answering him, but instead put the next phase of his plan into action. His body illuminating once more, he channeled electricity from his fingertips and could feel it permeate the platform of his prism, much to his relief. His plan had worked, and he was the Black Reaper once again. The platform grew hot with the extra electricity passing through it and released a powerful, bear-like roar before deadening completely. Hei and his captor were now utterly drowned in darkness so that it was impossible to see even an inch ahead of themselves.

However, as a result of the machine's circuits shorting, glass prism began lifting up off of the platform. It was not a fact one could observe with the eyes, but Hei could feel the vibrations under his feet, and he stood up to confirm his suspicions. He carefully slid his feet along the platform with his arms outstretched, and once his palms met the glass, he ducked and jumped down. As his feet hit the concrete floor, his ear was drawn by a sound, that of a motor, and suddenly the machine lit up again. A backup generator. The glass began to close again, and the reality of how narrowly Hei had managed to escape hit the Contractor like the sting of ice water. Soft lights along the walls of the room, guiding lights to ensure one did not crash into walls in the darkness, flickered to life as well, and Hei realized that he had interrupted the entire building's electricity. With the generator taking over, all the lights were coming back on and slowly turning off as the channels and wires and sensors processed the programmed settings. In the faint glow, the Contractor looked up to the ceiling at a complex network of scaffolds, and it called to mind a familiar place that for some reason he could not put his finger on. It bothered him. What was so familiar about this place?

Pressed for time as the lights began to turn off, Hei did a quick survey of his surroundings to confirm that his captors had fled as children did from a dirty prank gone wrong. He could pursue them, but he knew he didn't need to. At some point, they would return to this place, either to continue work with their machine, or to disassemble and remove it from the premises. He wouldn't take his chances worrying about where they were headed, but instead hunted for his things. His coat and mask, both covered in dust and reeking of abandonment, were found with some difficulty amongst a litter of other seemingly useless objects and papers.

There were boxes of empty jars and vials, as well as notes covered in ink from various pens that buried the desk on which they sat. Hei found no value in any of these things, rationalizing that because the drug had still not been perfected, any research he could collect on the subject would be out of date already. There was only the mysterious machine in the center of the room. Was its sole purpose to serve as a giant container? Or did it work in unison with the drug's powers to produce an ideal effect? If it were the latter, would it not be more convenient to create a drug that would work independently without the aid of such a bulky, immovable device?

Hei's head was spinning. How much time had passed?

A door up above slammed shut. Hei was instantly alert and on his toes as he listened to the sounds of various footsteps dispersing about the upper levels of the building. Had they finally figured out where he was? It seemed like an entire army was milling about upstairs, and in that case he had to suspect police, not aid. If the police did find him, they wouldn't help him. He'd have to hide. Shifting about the boxes surrounding the desk, he built a nest for himself in the shadows and tried to remember how to function usefully. He hadn't had any practice in combat for six months. He was now understanding the full extent of his mental deterioration. It was like he had lost a fraction of his identity.

Finally, the door at the top of the staircase opened. It didn't make a sound, only a faint light from the outside lit up the stairs and then disappeared again as the door closed. Light footsteps crept down into the black of the basement at an agonizingly slow pace, but as those feet touched the concrete floor of the basement, a figure began to materialize in the light of the machine. It was a woman's body, Hei realized, and this woman was dressed in black with a red coat. Her face remained dark until she cautiously approached the machine and leaned in to examine its control panel.

_Sora!_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I have notes written for this chapter, just forgot to put them on the drive. Will update my livejournal site with those in a few days. Be watchful.**_  
><em>

**Anyway, this is a simple flashback for everyone with a purpose. That will become more apparent with my notes and the following chapter. But everyone can use more Hei, right?**


	14. The Price is Paid (Part I)

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE PRICE IS PAID (PART I)**

As sudden as a lightening strike, Hei felt as though he ought to remember something of significance, but he hadn't the faintest clue as to what that might be. He was aware that those sparse memories of the moments leading up to his capture had been erased from his consciousness, but there was something... Why couldn't he remember what it was? Watching Inga as he tirelessly scanned the surveillance monitors, Hei felt a shiver pass through him, a premonition of sudden, intense danger. Something was wrong.

He wanted to try to reach Sora again. Had something happened to her? Was that what was bothering him so deeply? No, he knew there was something else. He needed to remember!

"Earlier this morning," Inga began coolly, raising an eyebrow in Hei's direction, "There was an interruption in the video feed." Hei drew himself from this thoughts and shrugged his shoulders in Li style.

"Guess I'm not so surprised anymore," he replied nonchalantly. He knew Mao had disabled the cameras from the warden's offices in another block. Even so, his response could easily be interpreted as a lack of faith due to the security breach. That's what he was going for. Already so on edge, he knew he was more likely to give himself away.

"And you know what else was interesting?" Li shook his head. "There was a stray cat walking about. I haven't seen him in a while, but it's certainly a first for our prison." If Inga had spotted Mao, who was supposed to be adept at blending in, what else might he have found?

"That is unusual," Li agreed. "But it doesn't sound like a cause for alarm." Inga casually scratched at the bridge of his nose and sighed, turning back to the monitors. In a simple, fluid motion, his hands glided over the controls until several of the monitors shut off or lost reception. The rest which received video from the cameras stationed in the block they were overseeing remained active. A message box appeared across those screens, and Inga typed in a code represented on screen only as solid black dots. He hit enter, and the message box was replaced with an alert declaring, "Locked; active feed". Inga turned in his chair again, stoically facing the young, seemingly unassuming addition to prison security.

"I've experienced a change of heart," the proud expert announced. Li frowned._ The hell?_ "I don't understand."

"We'll take a little field trip to the Special CA Block," Inga explained. "The one across the recreation yard." A dark shadow set into his face, and Hei could not ignore that feeling of apprehension ricocheting about his skull. He did not feel comfortable following Inga to the CA block, especially not in light of his very abrupt desire to escort him there. The building was off limits, and Li had not been with Inga even an hour. Why had he so suddenly changed his mind?

"It's probably not right for us to abandon our post," Li offered innocently, pointing to the monitors. "It's my first day here. I really don't want to cause any trouble."

"I will vouch for you."

"I don't want you to have to do that. I can ask Takero to approve it some other time, maybe on my break."

"You want to learn how the prison works, don't you? Sometimes blocks come up short; you might be sent to other areas in the prison to help out. It's all included in the job description, kid. Stop being a brat and let's go." Inga stood up as though his word was final and binding and headed for the door. Hei knew he really had no way to refuse, not without projecting the idea that he had something to hide or something to be frightened of. Li promptly followed Inga out of the warden's office and across the recreation room to the now extremely familiar door that led to the yard.

Stepping out onto the asphalt boldly, the stress of trying to creep across the yard was now eliminated. He was in disguise as a member of prison staff, not as the Black Reaper, so he did not have to concern himself with keeping to the shadows or being shot at by guards in the surveillance towers. He felt a new kind of stress, however, as that foreboding aura permeating the air seemed to grow stronger with each step. Hei was confident that Inga knew something that he was not divulging to Li, something very probably related to the premonition crawling up his spine. _Remember! Remember!_

"You never did explain to me what this building is used for? You said it was a cell block, right?"

"It is. It's for a special kind of criminal. They need extreme and specific types of security, and they're not to intermingle with the rest of the inmates."

"Like death row?"

"Oh no, death row is just filled with men who have nothing more to lose. The CA block is entirely different. You'll see."

"What kinds of criminals would require unique security?" Li pressed. Inga shot a dark glare indicative of his annoyance in Li's direction, but it quickly eased away, and the agitated little man faced straight ahead again.

"Do you believe in supernatural phenomena?" he inquired of Li. Li scratched his cheek, feigning puzzlement, before replying.

"I'm not sure that I do," he muttered. "There have been a lot of rumors though since the Gate appeared. Who's really to say?"

"I say prepare yourself, and I will show you that the rumors are true." _So there _are _Contractors housed here!_ Hei thought to himself, glad to have an official confirmation. _Still, I wish I could have gotten a hold of Sora or the team to update them on my status..._

They had approached the building. It was unassuming in design, purely a hollowed out concrete slab lacking windows. It could not be confirmed from their present vantage point, but Hei was convinced that the door they stood before now was the only entrance, which also caused some concern for him. Truly his only hope was that within this stone fortress he might find water so that Yin could keep an eye on him, even at the risk of being discovered.

Inga withdrew from his pocket a separate access card that he allowed the complex keypad and scanner to analyze. He remained entirely still as his entire body was scanned with a white, almost celestial beam, and the access system spoke so quickly it was unintelligible, listing off the several characteristics to be confirmed before access to the special block was granted. Once this process was complete, Inga was required to punch in several codes using the keypad, and eventually a green light illuminated and blinked rapidly, indicating their limited time to enter the building. He briefly explained to Li what some of the codes were for, most especially the one which put on record the visit of a guest.

Li was hurried through the door, and there he was met with glass walls and more locked doors. His hope was restored when he remembered that July's surveillance specters were channeled through glass, and his mood lightened up just a smidgeon as Inga set to work again acquiring access to the CA block. After passing through several exhausting checkpoints, they were at last able to enter into what appeared to be a common room of some sort.

There were monitors stationed about the room, all displaying different views of the block and other important information that Li could not wrap his head around. Inga paused in this room to explain.

"Everything you can possibly think of is monitored, recorded, and reviewed in this room here," he told the flabbergasted Li. "The vitals of all the inmates are confirmed, as well as the unique security devices employed to hold them, whether or not their powers might be in use, etcetera." Hei, so well acquainted with Contractors as he was, nearly let the information glide over his head.

"Powers?" he asked in incredulity. He realized that he was becoming quite the talented actor with each odd job he had to fulfill as Li Shengshun.

"Yes, that's what I meant when I referred to the supernatural earlier," Inga said nonchalantly. "The criminals in this block wield supernatural powers and devices and are void of guilt, making them more cold-blooded, more formidable and fearsome than any other ordinary human that you might have the misfortune of crossing paths with. Each cell is designed with the inmate in mind, directly relating to each one's capabilities. They're known as Contractors."

"What?!" Li asked, glancing about nervously. Inga grew incredibly quiet and said nothing more, even as Li pleaded for him for more information. It was not a simple absence of sound, but a truly dark, menacing quality that overwhelmed Inga, and Hei knew he had reached the height of concern.

"Why are you so quiet?" Li demanded after a short while. They were traveling down a long hallway lined with doors leading to unknown locations. Just a quiet, empty hallway. In fact, after leaving the monitoring room, Li had not seen a soul.

Inga stopped at a door abruptly and unlocked it with a simple swipe of his access card, allowing Li to pass through first. Inside Li found a standard common room with a few odd chairs, a television, and a refrigerator. The thing that made this room stand out from everything else Li had seen to that point was the extremely casual atmosphere of the place, as well as the fact there were actually people present. Two men stood inside this room, one small and eerie much like Inga, but with dark hair and eyes so yellow they appeared jaundiced. The second man was much larger, and probably weighed more than Inga and the second man combined. He had a clean-shaven face and would otherwise appear quite normal save for their present location. It also appeared as though these two men had been waiting specifically for Li's and Inga's arrival. Li looked about the room, then turned back to Inga in confusion.

"What is this?" he asked his guide.

"We're amongst men, right?" Inga asked in an unconvincing friendly tone. "Why not drop the facades?" Li swallowed hard. The voice that left Inga's lips was entirely unlike the voice he had grown accustomed to, and in fact it was all to familiar from another place and time. Inga reached up and brushed his bangs from his face, and for the first time - now that he was looking for it - Hei noticed a small, unusual scar on Inga's left wrist. He finally remembered identified this voice as that which belonged to the mysterious person who had held him hostage at Miyabita. He knew he would never forget that voice, that which had taunted him for months, and the recognition of it had been instant. Inga was a Contractor. Inga and his captor were the same person. Hei had walked into the same trap twice. Like a fool.

"I guess we should drop the facades," Hei agreed.

"To this day I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how you managed to escape the machine we built, but we've been working steadily on improving its technology to prevent mishaps like that one in the future."

"I'm not going to tell you how I did it." Inga couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"But don't do anything funny, either."

"How could anyone bring humor to this situation?" Hei asked, glancing about the room. He was trying to develop a method of defeating his captors and escaping, but he was limited in tools. He did not have his wire, and he would have to get up close and personal with his opponents in order to use his abilities. Naturally, he did not want to approach them with overconfidence; he wanted to seize them off guard and bring them to him. What would he use to accomplish this?

"You're obviously a creative man," the jaundiced Contractor said in a whisper, studying Hei closely.

"Well then."

Hei immediately dove behind a chair and slipped out of his jacket. Inga sighed irritably and gestured for his accomplices to handle the situation.

"I wasn't gifted with death-dealing powers," Inga muttered. "But I try not to be ungrateful. What I lack in physical power I more than compensate for with intelligence. And my ability does serve me well."

"It helps to keep a couple of friends around," the large Contractor added comfortably, poking his head around the chair. "Boo." Hei wanted to roll his eyes, but instead speedily threw his jacket about the Contractor's neck and pulled before electrocuting him. The man released an agonized roar from the pain until his body flopped to the floor in a contorted and unflattering position. Hei tried to retrieve his jacket, not so much to complete his prison attire as to utilize again as a weapon, but he realized he was wasting time trying to tug it loose. When he gave up, he found himself staring down at an entirely different man. He growled, now recognizing this man too as the large fellow who had pressed his face against the glass to interrogate him when he had initiated his escape from Miyabita. _Damn it! A shape-shifter!_

Hei drew his attentions away from the corpse and was immediately overtaken by thousands of fluttering insects. He coughed and sputtered and tried to stand upright, but he as he caught the faint glimpse of synchrotron radiation across the room, he realized that he was under the assault of Inga's second companion. The butterflies isolated Hei and enveloped him in a sort of living cocoon, and they began to bite and draw blood. _What the hell is this?_ He wondered. He had never before encountered hostile butterflies.

Out of nowhere, Hei felt a dull pain shoot through his skull and he stumbled. He felt as though his blood was boiling, and he grew dizzy and nauseous. He realized that he was being poisoned, and he very much expected to die. As his vision faded and his limp body tumbled to the floor, he realized that Sora would eventually come looking for him. The agony of imagining Sora dying in a similar, torturous fashion was more than his conscience could bear, and his consciousness at last left him.

* * *

><p>Sora sat somberly with her elbows rested on the tabletop and her chin cupped in her left palm. She was in prison yet again, but this time a women's penitentiary near the coast, very modern in design and technology, and fairly new. This was the prison in which her mother was confined. They had gotten their own room in which they could talk freely, but Sora was not sure if this privilege was standard for all visits or if her family's status had awarded them extra perks. She would not be surprised if the latter were true. The room was hardly prepossessing; the walls, the metal tables, and the chairs were all gray. Dark, dreary, and miserable. Much how one would expect a prison to look.<p>

Sora had decided to follow her father's advice and confront her mother with the questions she had. If Mrs. Kanbimura was renting out the property, (or otherwise authorizing its use without Kanbimura's consent) Sora felt she had a right to know about it. Most especially if Mrs. Kanbimura was in fact continuing to affiliate with illegal government factions and Contractors. She had Kirihara's number in her phone, and she was prepared to use it again without hesitation.

When Mrs. Kanbimura finally appeared, led in by a stone-faced guard, it was instantaneously apparent to Sora that her mother had lost all of her zeal for life and was entirely depleted of energy. Her chin was still held high and her movements were learned, languid, but lifeless. Sora felt her heart ache upon seeing such a strong woman less than her best, but she could not forget the series of events that had brought her mother to that point. She had forgiven her, but still, Mrs. Kanbimura had to pay for her crimes to the country. That was well beyond Sora's control.

"I wasn't expecting a visit from you... ever," Mrs. Kanbimura said coldly as she seated herself at the table across from her daughter. "You could have warned me." She tucked a graying wisp of hair behind her ear.

"You can't even pretend to be happy to see me? Your _child_?"

"Sora, you put your own mother and brother in prison and severed my marriage to your father." Sora drew in a deep, frustrated breath.

"You have certainly disowned me for less," she muttered. It was a cheap shot, but she found herself feeling less and less sympathy for her mother with each second that passed. "And I won't accept responsibility for any of that."

"I never expected you to. So what do you want?"

"You've been renting out the basement at the Miyabita Production House," Sora replied with certitude. "I need to know to whom and for what purpose. Otousan already knows about this, so it won't do you any good to lie to me."

Mrs. Kanbimura's eyes lit up with anger. Her daughter could see her body trembling. "You don't know anything!" she spat.

"Yes I do!" Sora snarled back, still managing to keep her voice low. "I saw the machine in Miyabita."

"The what?"

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt in that you don't know what these people were building or storing down there. But you _did_ rent out the space to someone without Otousan's permission, without even discussing it with him. Tell me who these people are!"

"And if I refuse?" Mrs. Kanbimura asked, settling back into her stiff, practiced demeanor. A lone tear trickled down Sora's face, but she wiped it away quickly. She leaned forward, her eyes boring into those of her mother.

"He still loves you," she told her mother coldly. "After everything you and Ichiro did to this family, to our honor, to our hearts, you don't even love him enough not to hurt him again?"

"Don't you dare-"

"Even a woman as 'proper' as you lacks shame at all for the sins she's committed?" Mrs. Kanbimura sat up a little straighter and held her chin up just a pinch higher. "You cannot feign dignity, not to me."

"If this is all you've come here for-"

"Tell me who these people are."

"I don't know."

"You must know something."

"Sora, they would not tell me anything. I was guaranteed provisions in this hell-hole in exchange for a space where they could work undisturbed. No one told me what organization they represented, what they were doing down there; it's a clean business transaction."

"There's nothing clean about it at all!" Sora exclaimed in frustration. "Didn't you figure that these mysterious persons knew how to find you because of your previous affiliations?"

"I... don't remember much of the past," Mrs. Kanbimura muttered. Sora nodded her understanding. ME.

"How did you know that the production house would be undisturbed?"

"Your father and I share Miyabita Production House, and when we do discuss things together it usually pertains to that property."

"Do you have any idea what sorts of demons you've unleashed? I can hardly believe you are my mother."

"I have shared that doubt, you growing up the way you have," Mrs. Kanbimura retorted. "You have always been against me, your own mother!"

"That's because you have never loved me for who I was. From infancy you have tried to change me. I never was who you wanted me to be, and at some point I had to realize that I honestly never could be."

"Look at those pretty blue eyes, hmm? I _made_ you the beauty you are today. You would not have been half as successful without my guidance." Sora started to stand, but she settled back into her seat without word. Mrs. Kanbimura was practically glowing triumphant, and she waited smugly for Sora's next effort. Soon however, her glow diminished and her face contorted with perplexity as Sora lifted up her finger to her right eye and removed a contact lens, flicking it onto the table. Just as easily, she removed the other lens from her left eye and indiscriminately flicked that one, too, from her finger.

"I wanted so badly to have even one treasure from you," Sora whispered softly. "I wanted to go on forever telling the world that 'my Okaasan made my eyes blue.' But I don't care anymore. The two people I love most have looked into my eyes, black and ordinary as they are, and have told me that I am beautiful and that they love me."

"Sora..."

"You don't... You don't see what you do to me," Sora continued. "And every day I meet you, I doubt more and more that you ever will." With that, Sora stood up and excused herself, leaving the blue eyes she had "inherited" from her mother on the tabletop.

Sora was happy to set her foot down on free land again, and inhaled the fresh air outside. Her driver was still waiting for her, his gaze kind but unaffectionate, and he quickly climbed out of the driver's seat to open the door for her. As she neared him, however, he frowned. Sora immediately understood that it was because in only an hour's time, her eyes had dramatically changed color. From before she could properly form sentences, she had worn blue contacts at her mother's insistence. And before she had married Hei, no one apart from her family and seen her natural eye color. She realized she would have to get used to the frowns and puzzled expressions, but she already felt liberated. Hei thought she was beautiful, as did her father. And she would learn to believe it too.

"I think it's about time to head back to Tokyo, if you please," Sora told her driver. He bowed and closed the door behind her, returning to the wheel.

"Any destination in particular?" he asked.

"No, not yet," she muttered.

"Yes, miss."

Sora reached into her purse and retrieved her earpiece, fastening it to her ear and adjusting the frequency. Almost as soon as she completed this, a static buzz caused her to jump before Mao's panicked voice shouted at her.

"Mao, I can't hear you clearly! Talk slower; there's a lot of static."

"It's Hei! He's been ambushed in the Special CA Block and we can't get in!" Sora's heart dropped into her stomach.

"His star! Is he okay? Is he alive?!"

"His star is still there but it might not be for long." Sora's driver glanced back at Sora in the rearview mirror, frowning.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned. Sora glanced to her right and realized that they were nearing the Public Security Division offices.

"Turn right up here!" she shouted, and the driver instinctively cranked the wheel to the right, cutting off lanes of traffic and flying down a one-way alley.

"What?" Mao demanded, confused.

"Not you!" Sora snapped. "I'm getting Misaki to get us into the prison. Where's November 11 and April? Can't they do anything?"

"November 11 slipped away, and April can't get into the CA block on her own," Mao replied. After a little thought, he added, "Do you think it's wise to involve the Public Security Division?"

"Misaki cannot prioritize capturing the Black Reaper over taking down an entire corrupt organization out to destroy an entire race-species-thingy of people! I won't let her!"

The towncar flew down the alley and fortunately met no other cars, and soon emerged on the other end across the boulevard outside the Division offices. The driver, skilled and daring, turned onto the road and then too sped across several lanes of traffic, burrowing down the driveway leading to the underground garage.

"Where should I park?" the driver asked amid the commotion.

"Anywhere! Anywhere!" Sora flew into the seat ahead of her as the car came to an abrupt halt. Her arm was trapped in the sleeve of her jumpsuit, and she couldn't stop herself from flying forward. Her head throbbed with pain; it was the second time in two days that she'd collided with the seat in front of her. She was already half-dressed for action, and once she had zipped up the front of her suit, she tossed the Reaper's mask into her purse and climbed from the car. She stalled, then turned back.

"Call my father, tell him I'm with Kirihara Misaki and that I will call him when I'm safe," she instructed. She refrained from telling him what she was really thinking, that she wanted Kanbimura to know that she loved him and wanted him to be strong if she did not make it back. What good would it do to say morbid things like that? She slammed the door shut and darted across the parking lot to the elevator as fast as she could.

Once upstairs, she charged the front desk and demanded to see Misaki. Immediately, the reception refused her.

"If I have to call her myself everyone in here will PAY! Do you understand me?!"

"Go ahead and call her," the receptionist challenged nonchalantly. "You have no authority here." Sora angrily pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed Misaki's number, all the while glaring at the person manning the front desk. The office was bustling with people, and everyone who passed cast judgmental and confused looks at Sora in her black, skintight jumpsuit as they passed her. It made her uncomfortable to be the object of such negative attention, but her dire situation was the true source of her temper. Just as Sora was ready to snap her own phone in half, Misaki and November 11 darted out of an elevator and stopped short, clearly surprised to see her. November 11 smiled devilishly at Sora, and Misaki frowned.

"We need to-"

"What are you wearing?" Misaki demanded to know. Sora rolled her eyes and shoved her phone back in her purse. "I was told that a cosplayer was down here looking for me and-"

"It's the Black Reaper. And so many other things. I need your Division to grant November 11 and me clearance into a prison."

"What?"

"Please help me, Misaki! We don't have time!" Sora begged. "He could die. They could all die!"

"Sora, you're not making sense."

"We can explain everything to you in greater detail later," November 11 said calmly, offering Sora a knowing glance. "The poor girl is drawing a lot of unwanted attention to herself. Do you think she would do that if-" He stopped short and leaned forward a bit, frowning intensely.

"They're naturally black," Sora muttered in frustration. Misaki started to lean forward too, but she realized how distressed Sora was and decided to help Sora get what she wanted rather than hassle her about her eye color.

"Which prison?" Sora muttered the list of details and wrapped her arms about Misaki's shoulders gratefully. November 11 shrugged at Misaki's pleading glance.

"Shall we take my car?" Misaki asked after radioing her team with instructions. Sora nodded eagerly, and they all headed back downstairs to the garage. She knew that the section chief's primary concern was to capture the Black Reaper, but that did not trouble her. As long as Misaki had a fire under her, she did not care for what desire it burned.

Once in the car and on the road, Misaki said, "Please, somebody fill me in."

"An anti-Contractor faction of government is trying to develop technology that will rob Contractors of their powers," Sora spat quickly, fiddling with her earpiece to ensure Mao could update her if need be.

"And so we are...?"

"Crashing their facility to rescue the Black Reaper and destroy their-"

"Rescue the Black Reaper?" Misaki pressed. "He doesn't seem to be one that is easily captured."

"Misaki, this technology could really mark the beginning of a dark war between Contractors and humans," November 11 explained. "Moratoria are being dragged into this. The Black Reaper, while Sora's primary concern, is only a minor issue here."

"And the prisoners are being experimented on as well! They've corrupted the justice system at every level! I have some of their data, and though it's not up-to-date, it's proof!"

"What?" Misaki and November 11 demanded, both confused.

"I have a doctor who can confirm my theories and explain some of the details from the drug's early stages."

"When on earth did you manage to do all of this?" November 11 pressed. He hadn't realized until much later that Sora had even evacuated the prison, let alone to follow her own leads. "Does your team know about any of this?"

"Her team?"

"_Somebody_ has to do something!" Sora shouted. November 11 looked back at her with mild sympathy, aware that her feelings for the Reaper were showing again.

"He's that important to you, is he?" Sora bit her lip and looked out of the window, fighting frustrated tears. The Briton hesitated for a moment, but once certain she would not respond to him, he turned around and faced forward in his seat. "Faster, Misaki." Misaki shook her head disapprovingly. To this day she did not understand nor could she condone Sora's infatuation with the assassin BK-201, most especially in light of Sora's marriage to Li.

Sirens soon blared from all directions, and Sora heaved a sigh of relief. She climbed to her knees in her seat and smiled upon seeing a sea of red lights flashing behind her. Civilian cars were forced off of the road to make way for their grand entourage. It was an army of police officers just for Hei. They were going to rescue him. And then if need be, Sora would rescue the Black Reaper from them.


	15. The Price is Paid (Part II)

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE PRICE IS PAID (PART II)**

Sora could hardly contain herself as Misaki steered the vehicle up to the prison gates. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, and her anticipation had skyrocketed. A guard trudged over to greet them and confirm they had clearance, but his face contorted with irritation as Misaki explained what she, November 11, and Yozora were doing there accompanied by at least a quarter of Tokyo's police force. The guard's gaze shifted skeptically from Misaki to November 11 to Sora, and he leaned in closer and narrowed his eyes on the latter.

"If you're Public Security," he began, glancing at Misaki, "And you're British Intelligence – who's this?" Sora stiffened uncomfortably. Who was she really? Unofficially she was aiding the Syndicate while pushing her own agenda, but she couldn't say that. And the Syndicate would never lay claim to her anyhow.

"She's...classified." Misaki hesitated. That wouldn't help.

"Yozora is my charge," November 11 said. "I'm training her to work special cases abroad."

"And she's dressed like a ninja because...?" Sora frowned, examining herself. _Like a what?_

"Ah, don't condescend me," November 11 scolded playfully. Misaki and Sora both sent disgusted glares in the Briton's direction, neither appreciating the connotation attached to his response. November, in turn, only shrugged. The guard chose not to offer anymore commentary on the subject.

"Is all of this really necessary?" he asked, referring to the entourage of patrol cars behind them.

"Yes sir, and you're wasting valuable time! We have clearance, now let us through." The guard stepped back, evidently still dissatisfied with the section chief's response but aware of how powerless he was to do anything about it. He motioned for his fellow guards to open the gates, and once they had, Misaki's pressed down hard on the accelerator and the car zoomed forward.

"You need to learn to lie," November 11 told Misaki in a rather arrogant tone. Misaki did not respond, but Sora could imagine her rolling her eyes and scoffing. She was an honorable officer; she didn't want to have to lie about anything, not as representative of a system of justice. Except... nothing about the justice system was entirely just anymore, and their current situation made that obvious.

"That isolated building across the yard - that's the Special CA block," Sora announced, pointing.

She wasn't totally sure what her rescue technique would be. It was not like entering the prison before; she didn't have time to run the layout of the building. Officially, she had no idea what was inside. Except Hei. She was motivated by love, this she knew, but she did not want to be distracted by it. Otherwise her life would be in grave danger. And she trusted Misaki's capability, the police too, but once they found the Black Reaper and defeated his enemies, she and Misaki would no longer be allies. What would she do then? What about November 11? Could she trust him? At least the anti-Contractor faction's plot to release a drug that would eliminate Contractor powers mattered to him as a Contractor. Misaki worked for the government; her job was to hide the existence of Contractors and to apprehend them as necessary.

Sora always tried to block out much of Hei's job description when she thought of him. She knew he was a killer. She knew it was wrong, but he didn't enjoy any of it. He killed when he had to. But then again, what exactly did that mean? She didn't want to know. She feared taking life. She had done it before and the guilt had never left her. Would she have to kill again?

"Misaki, what might you know about the Special CA block?" November 11 asked casually as the vehicle came to an abrupt halt outside the establishment.

"Not a thing, and it's supposed to stay that way," Misaki replied quickly, climbing from the car and disappearing. November 11 turned back to help Sora out, petrifying her by tugging her close to his body. She stiffened, then relaxed as the Briton's soft but firm whisper graced her ear.

"Stay close to me, okay? Soon enough, Misaki will not be our friend." Sora nodded as he released her. She understood perfectly. She didn't want to think that way of Misaki, but she accepted it as truth.

A truck drove up to the scene, and once it came to a halt two guards emerged from within. Kirihara approached them and quickly, childish squabbling ensued. Sora's skin was crawling. What were they on about? Why would no one unlock the door?

Misaki waved Sora and November 11 over to them exasperatedly. "They say that one man – Inga – is in charge of this block, and officially we require his permission and assistance to enter."

"How are we supposed to believe that?" their British company demanded irritably.

"Where is this Inga?" Yozora asked. The guard pointed to the large, windowless building. So without doubt, this man was responsible for holding Hei. "Surely you can contact him. So do it."

"Excuse me?" a guard demanded, his brows furled. Yozora sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. This was a joke. This was some tired stalling mechanism, and for what? She looked to November 11 who only shrugged. He was adept at maintaining his composure in all situations, and Sora didn't quite understand how he pulled it off. She realized that apart from his wanting to protect Contractors, this was not exactly personal for him and yet… he was just so calm. Somehow, she wished to emulate this capability of his.

"We're going to look into it," the other guard insisted as politely as possible. "Just give us a moment." _Is he not aware of just how many things occur in a 'moment'?_ Sora wondered silently, holding in her fiery tongue.

* * *

><p>"Bind him!" Inga instructed coldly, grateful that the toxic insects had worked so swiftly. This proved that the Black Reaper, who had now fallen into their trap twice, was not as much of a threat as people claimed. He was feeling triumphant.<p>

"We can test out our recent advancements on him," he continued. "After all, he was such a cooperative and valuable participant in our experiments before." The yellow-eyed Contractor did not reply to his sentiments, and in fact hardly looked at him. He took hold of some coarse rope and set about tying Hei up per Inga's orders until something caught his eye. He did not voice his apprehension, but Inga noticed something in the man's demeanor change. Inga knew something was wrong, and this enraged him.

"What? What, what, what?!" he demanded. "Tell me!"

"His breathing is… normal," his companion replied, evidently confused.

"What?"

"And his skin is… a body fighting off toxins should not be so…"

"Well?" Inga snapped and pointing to Hei's body impatiently. His pale skin was beginning to acquire a reddish hue.

The yellow-eyed man hesitantly reached two bony fingers out and pressed them against Hei's neck, checking his pulse. His frown intensified. Had he recovered that quickly? Inga did not verbally urge him, but it remained clear that he had completely exhausted his patience.

"He's… Ahhhh!" The Contractor flailed in agony as electricity shot up from his ankle and through his blood stream, his body finally failing and flopping onto the floor in sickly hue. Hei was almost instantly on his feet again, albeit heavily disoriented, and charged Inga who was now virtually defenseless with his manpower eliminated. The tiny Contractor dove out of the way, and Hei missed him, his reaction time greatly inhibited. Fortunately for the little man, Hei was not preoccupied with harming or killing him but instead with escaping. He had not escaped the venomous insects' poison nor its effects, so he could not waste precious strength sparring with a Contractor lacking any fatal abilities.

He did not quite remember how to exit the building though. He had been taken on a labyrinth tour; he could not imagine that a simple common room would be so buried within the establishment, so he concluded Inga had taken him in circles instead.

What sort of Contractor had he become? All of these foolish blunders – he was better than that and he knew it! And Sora… he was endangering her life as well, wasn't he?

An alarm sounded, and Hei's time was dramatically cut short. What was happening?

* * *

><p>"What is that?" Yozora demanded to know, pointing to the building.<p>

"Sounds like a prison break," one guard responded. "You guys need to clear out."

"No we don't!" Yozora said. "I'm going in there, damn it! Open the door!"

"We can't."

"OPEN IT!" November 11 placed his hand on Yozora's shoulder but she smacked it away forcefully. "Don't you touch me! He could die! They could all die! _We have to help him!_"

"Who is he? Is someone in there who-"

"Yes! Please open the door!" Misaki snarled before Yozora released anymore hysteria on these already confused and useless men. "However you have to, just make sure-"

Misaki stopped short as the building's security pad lit up, signaling access had been granted. She turned back to the guards who only shrugged, then back at the door as Yozora burst through it unrestrained. November 11 immediately pursued her, aware of her vulnerability, and Misaki chased after them both with incredulity evident in her expression, drawing her firearm. She didn't like it at all. Were they walking into an ambush?

"Are you two insane?" she demanded, raising her gun up to eye-level and slowing her pace from frantic to cautious. Her eyes surveyed the area, then focused on November 11's and Yozora's advancing figures before narrowing on Sora's weapon – a blade all too familiar to Misaki in her pursuit of BK-201. She made no comment. As much as she questioned Sora's adeptness with such a weapon, she appreciated the fact that Sora would need to protect herself to some degree. Yozora slowed her pace, and Misaki watched as she adopted a very professional caution as though someone had trained her. This made Misaki even more suspicious of Sora.

The alarm was still sounding, and around the corner, terrifying chaos sounded. It really was a prison break; Sora was all too familiar. But twice in a few days' time? It was obviously suggestive. Someone had to be releasing the prisoners on purpose as some sort of offense. But how so? And where was Hei?

"Yozo-" November 11 started, as Yozora lifted up her leg and swiftly caught a prisoner in the throat as he barreled around the corner. He crashed to the floor, stunned and gasping for air, but the Night Reaper kept moving, entirely unaffected. The Briton stepped over the writhing body and followed her, disturbed. This was not like Sora at all. Even with her training, that sort of callousness was Contractor material, and she was too gentle and naïve for… _Forget it_, November 11 thought. _Once we find BK-201, Sora will be his responsibility. I have more important things to worry about._ But even he had to admit that that was not entirely true.

Yozora stopped short, and November 11, so engrossed in his own frustrations, nearly bumped into her. She didn't speak, nearly gestured to the scene around the corner. The alarm blaring was most certainly in response to the mass release of prisoners. And these were not ordinary convicts. These were practiced, fearless Contractors. And the three of them – Sora, Misaki, and November 11 – plus the police force accompanying them would have to sort through the chaotic crowd to find_ their_ Contractor: the Black Reaper. The Briton and Misaki watched as Sora drew in deep, labored breaths and attempted to mentally prepare herself.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yes."

"You're taking a big risk-" Misaki tried.

"He would do the same for me," Sora countered. "He_ has_ done the same for me." There was no way to totally prepare herself for what she was about to do. She knew that ultimately, try as she might, she would never be able to justify it.

November 11 felt his chivalrous obligation surfacing. He stepped ahead of Sora and insisted, "I'll lead." Sora didn't fight him, but nodded quietly and followed after his brave march, an unnerved Misaki in tow.

The prisoners did not at first appear aware of the trio's presence, and the trio did not hasten to draw attention to themselves. Rational Contractors that they were, the prisoners did not immediately break out in a riot as had taken place in the main building. They did not trust their freedom, they did not trust each other, and it made Sora grateful that she had such experts on her side.

Sora scanned the crowd of Contractors for Hei but was unsuccessful in locating him. Where was he? If releasing the prisoners was a diversion, could he have gotten smothered in all of the chaos? They had to work through the advancing Contractors, not around them. It was daring and dangerous, but wasn't it better than-

November 11 stopped walking and silently gestured ahead. Sora glanced around his fairly muscular frame and instantly recognized Hei stumbling weakly amongst the inmates. It was evident that Hei's defenses were low and he looked exhausted and sickeningly pale. She began to step around November when he grabbed hold of her by the waist and held her against his body, almost hostage. Sora glared up at him furiously, but he refused to make eye contact with her.

"What are you doing?" she snarled.

"Can't have you prancing into danger to rescue your lover, can we?"

"You're an idiot! He's hurt!" Misaki advanced ahead of November 11 where he held Sora, gesturing for two officers to follow her. She understood the Briton's methods, and though she herself did not spot BK-201 in the crowd yet, she resolved to lead the way in the recovery. Sora, however, was not comforted in the idea of Misaki reaching Hei first. He did not have his mask, and Misaki would be confused to find Li here when they were looking for the Black Reaper. His identity and secret identity would be extremely compromised when they were supposed to be assisting him.

Sora raised her blade to November 11's neck. "Release me," she demanded. The Contractor did not take the threat seriously. She herself knew that he was skilled, but she was stronger when her husband was involved. She drew up her leg and brought it back hard in his groin. The Briton stiffened but tried to maintain his grip on her. Still, she found it easy to wriggle from his hold and added an extra kick to the stomach for security, then bolted toward her husband.

Her bold display did attract attention, and suddenly it became that much more difficult to reach him as the men converged on her. Sparing the security of the mask, she tore it from her face and hurled it like disc in Hei's direction.

"Reaper!" she shouted to ensure Hei's attention, but he had already taken notice of her. Hei leapt atop the shoulders of a large Contractor and grabbed hold of the mask, securing it to his face. Jumping back down, he struggled to subdue the prisoner with a chokehold but eventually succeeded. Sora had disappeared from view in the crowd, but once she raised her voice again in frustrated protest against someone's hold of her, Hei began to move toward the sound with aggressive persistence. His body was still weak, but the adrenaline produced in wake of his wife's necessity fueled him.

Astonishingly enough, none of the Contractors seemed interested in harming her, but were otherwise extremely confused. They set about interrogating her almost immediately, and one man seized her arm to prevent her from running away.

"How did you get in here?" one demanded angrily, as other men approached, desirous of the answer. Yozora knew it was better to interpret their question as "How do we get out?" However, she did not respond, instead wrestling her arm from the man's grasp and brandishing her blade with as much confidence as she could muster. She glanced about, trying to withhold her panic, while looking for Hei, but she had lost sight of him. Where had he disappeared to now? He was supposed to be helping her. Or rather, she was supposed to be helping him.

Meanwhile Hei was slinking away to find a power switch. He wanted Sora out of the prison as quickly as possible. He did locate one down a dead end and grabbed hold of it, sending volts of electricity into the circuitry until the building went black due to a lack of power. He then pawed his way back to the open corridor in which everyone had gathered, searching out Sora from amongst the throng of bodies.

Sora felt a hand go over her mouth in the darkness and she stiffened before instinct kicked in and she raised her blade in defense of herself. Hei caught hold of her arm and whispered, "This way." He guided her noiselessly out from amidst the crowd, Sora squeezing his hand tightly in hers. Suddenly she tugged, and her husband slowed to a halt, glancing back at her in the darkness.

"The Public Security Division is outside," she whispered in his ear. "They will try to apprehend you once you leave here." Hei sighed.

"Where's November 11?" he asked, "He can get you out and-"

"I'm staying."

"No you aren't." Hei growled back at her, suppressing the defensive roar in his throat.

"I made it this far. I've come all this way for you, Hei. I'm not leaving unless you come with me."

"I have an assignment to complete-"

"Then this conversation is over." Hei was prepared to retort, but the Public Security Division had wheeled in floodlights, and they illuminated behind Hei. Sora averted her gaze from the blinding beam boring into the dark, whimpering while Hei held her.

"This is the Public Security Division and MI-6," Misaki's voice sounded. "Nobody try to escape. Officers, in the event of a break, lethal force is authorized."

"Sora please, get out!" Hei begged, but it was too late. The Contractor and his wife were standing in the middle of a war.

The Contractors wordlessly formed a coalition against the Public Security Division. They turned away from each other and faced forward as soldiers approaching battle, but they did not advance or attack right away. Both sides were waiting for someone to make the first move, to interrupt the uncertainty and declare war. Sora looked up at Hei and his cold gaze stared down Misaki and the Division, and she wondered whose side they were on. Should she ask? Should she already know?

"Where's Inga?" Sora whispered softly in her husband's ear. Hei's gaze grew colder and shot down at her. She gasped.

"How do you know about Inga?" he demanded.

"He is the head operator of this block…" Sora replied apprehensively. "Isn't he?" Hei's gaze softened.

"How have you been holding up so far?" he asked.

"Pretty well."

"Good. Because I'm going after Inga." Sora accepted this statement as though it should have been obvious. That was until, of course, she realized what that meant. She suddenly felt desperate, and she gripped the sleeve of Hei's prison uniform. Hei didn't respond. He refused to look at her because he knew she was scared. Instead, he walked her over to where November 11 stood, on the side of the Public Security Division, and passed his wife over to his care. He didn't say anything. Neither did the Briton. He was engrossed in the looming danger and simply held out his hand for Sora to take. Nobody was making eye contact.

Sora kissed Hei on the cheek and then accepted November 11's offered hand without looking back at him.

"Nobody move," Misaki insisted. "We need your full cooperation – BK-201! Wait!" The Black Reaper did not acknowledge her either, but instead bolted down the corridor and forced himself to ignore the battle cries of the now charging Contractors. Misaki did not bother pursuing him, but instead raised her gun and prepared the defense of her life. _November 11, protect her until your last breath!_

Sora released November 11's hand and clutched the hilt of her blade, trying hard to calculate a point of attack, a sure method of defending herself, but it was hard to see through so many bodies. And how could she determine what sorts of awful powers each Contractor possessed? What if a move she made played right into the hands of an adversary?

"Lethal force is authorized," Misaki told November 11. All the air in her lungs flushed out her nostrils and she couldn't breathe. It was official. The only way to subdue this crowd was to kill its members. Sora raised her weapon and made the first fateful slice in the fleshy part of a Contractor's arm.

The Contractor stood over her, glaring at her, and his harsh breath poisoned Sora's air. They both seemed unsure of how to treat the other.

"Aren't you a little young to be playing with knives?" the man taunted, grinning. Sora couldn't suffer another attack to her ego – why was it that so many people continuously underestimated her? She spat in his face angrily and drew up her leg to kick him but he grabbed hold of it and laughed, yanking her body closer to his. "So sweet." He leaned in close and Sora plunged the blade into his abdomen, causing him to wince but not much else. She was not so brutal as to carve or twist the blade in his belly, and his endurance frightened her.

Two shots fired, and Sora was almost dragged to the ground.

"Do not show mercy. They have none for you," Misaki warned as Sora gathered her balance. She chose not to respond. The Public Security Division was trying its hardest to subdue the criminals without killing them, but their efforts appeared futile.

All around her, humans and Contractor's alike were being injured and killed. Officers were being thrown into the air by invisible forces, eyeballs bursting from sockets, bodies imploding and exploding – Sora began to hyperventilate. That could be her. She plunged into the crowd with the skills Hei had ingrained in her and the blade she had held for four years and began to take charge like the false Contractor she was. With Misaki and November 11 backing her, she had nothing to be afraid of. She had learned from the best that the Syndicate had to offer.

November 11 caught a glimpse of Sora out of the corner of his eye and was astonished to see such violence. Innocent Sora – what would happen to her when this was all over? Surely she wouldn't be the same woman again…

He ducked as a Contractor towered over him and swung his leg around to hook it behind the woman's ankle, knocking her to her feet. He was getting distracted again. _Damn it_. Suddenly the woman didn't appear to monstrous as she had merely seconds before. Was that her ability? To grow and shrink? It wasn't worth it to find out, so he forcefully kicked her in the head, knocking her unconscious. He was holding back on using his power because he didn't want to have to make a payment, and there was not enough moisture in the air, nor any water in sight. But short of strangling people with his bare hands, which was brutish and not his style, all he could do was subdue Contractors, not kill them. He was starting to feel powerless.

Misaki too was taken aback by Sora's strength and ruthlessness. What had possessed her? The section chief decided to stay close to her, just in case. November 11, she noticed, wasn't using his powers, so she and Sora were the only ones using lethal force. This entire situation was as messy as could be. The paperwork alone would be…

"Sora!" Misaki shouted, aiming her gun as Sora was seized from behind by a Contractor who wrapped her arm around her neck in a chokehold. Sora gasped for air as she drew up her tired arm and drove her elbow into the woman's stomach as hard as she could. The Contractor winced but did not let go. Misaki was hesitant to fire. She could hit Sora. But Yozora… she was in complete command of the situation. Next the blade flew up and sliced the woman's arm down to the bone, and she responded immediately by releasing Sora and clutched her arm in pain. Her dark gaze studied Sora in confusion, and soon her body enveloped in synchrotron radiation and she vanished. The Contractor's wife turned sharply and faced Misaki.

"A teleporter?" she asked. Misaki didn't respond. She closed her mouth, which had formerly hung open in shock, and then recovered quickly enough to aim her gun at another fiend headed for them.

"They're usually kept in restraints formed from Gate-based technology that inhibits their powers," Misaki mumbled, drawing closer to Sora.

"I can handle myself, you know." Misaki did not respond, but granted her the breathing room she requested. Where was BK-201 anyway? Sora had come all this way for him, and he had handed her off to another man? November 11 was acting strangely too. _What the hell is going on here?_ Sora was married to Li, but she had an unnatural bond with now two Contractors and… Misaki turned to check on Sora, only to find that she had slipped away somehow. The Briton was out of sight as well, meaning that they had all managed to separate from each other. That couldn't possibly be good. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to pick out their figures in the chaos but was unsuccessful.

Sora drove her blade into the neck of a Contractor as he reached for her, her adrenaline transforming her into a mercenary. Her leg rose and extended into his stomach, dislodging her blade and knocking him to the ground in time to swing and slice another across the chest. This one too surrendered to the pain and fell to the floor. She was exhausted and breathless now, and drew away from the scene as much as she could, tucking herself behind a pillar to rest as long as she was allowed. How long had they been at it now? She had been so engaged in defending herself that she had felt completely senseless. She had no concept of anything in its truest sense; there was simply a line drawn between herself and them and she chose herself. But now as she was leaned against the pillar, her brain sorted through all of her confused senses and brought to the fore each sensation. Sora felt nauseous. She felt… emotion.

Her body was sticky with sweat, and strands of hair clung to her face and neck. Her gloved hands were covered in blood… but it wasn't just her hands. Slowly perusing her body, she could see that her jumpsuit was splattered with glistening red drops, as well as brown, drying stains. She could smell it too, the blood of all of the people she had killed or injured. Her hands, which had formerly been creators of beautiful art, bringing to life fantasies of her imagination and recreating the natural wonders of God in paint… they were now tainted destroyers. Leaning around the pillar with cleared vision, she saw so many dead bodies as if for the first time, as if she had never noticed them before. She was in the middle of a battlefield and she had only just realized it.

"What… am I?" Sora whispered to herself. The weight of her sins burdened her weak legs and they buckled beneath her, her body flopping to the floor limply. Tears poured down her face and she threw her head back, her innocent wails piercing through the thickly muddied air.

Misaki cringed upon hearing Sora scream. Her eyes narrowed and scanned the crowd as best she could for her but could not find her. Where was she? Was she hurt? "Sora!"

November 11 too was frightened by Sora's scream. What had happened to her? He could find her, but instead his gaze fell upon Misaki and he charged through the dwindling numbers of people.

"Where is she?"

"I can't-" Misaki stopped short as Sora screamed again. "Did you hear that?" November 11 immediately took off toward the sound, and Misaki followed him with a bold face though she greatly feared what they might find.

The Briton nearly ran past Sora's trembling figure lying on the floor in the shadows. He slowed to a stop on his heels and turned to her only to have her snatch up her blade with wide, senseless eyes and point it weakly at him.

"Get away from me!" she yelled, hysterical.

"Oh my gosh!" Misaki exclaimed, guilt surfacing. "She needs medical attention." November 11 ignored Sora's order and approached her as calmly as he could.

"Put the knife down, Sora."

"No!" she yelled, pointing it at herself now. "I… I'm a monster. I'm worse than a Contractor."

"You're not a monster… you're a survivor." Sora shook her head adamantly.

"What have I done?" Tears were streaming down her face, her eyes darting all about her in complete panic. Misaki broke into a run to call for help, leaving November 11 to deal with Sora's irrational state by himself. He too was feeling guilty. Physically, she could protect herself but emotionally…. He had failed her.

"Who am I?"

"Sora, trust me when I-"

"I said STAY AWAY!"

"I can't do that." Sora frowned at him, then determinedly steadied her arm, the one which held the knife pointed at her belly, and tightened her grip on the hilt. She drew in a deep breath.

"You will die too if you don't."

"Sora, neither of us – Sora!" November 11 threw himself at her, reaching for the blade to try at stop her. But something else inhibited her first. _Someone_ else. A thin wire wrapped around Sora's arm and yanked it back, and the sudden impact of the Briton's body crushing hers startled her into releasing the blade. Sora flailed wildly beneath November 11's weight as she screamed unintelligibly. Despite this, he did not let go of her, but intensified his grip on her until a shadow fell over them both. A strong hand took hold of his collar, and his breath was sucked away from him as powerful volts of electricity powered through him and into Sora, who blacked out almost immediately. Hei released him before he too lost consciousness, and he managed to drag his weak body off of Sora's to look up at him.

"Mr. Reaper, never again will I allow you to electrocute me so easily," he told the masked man before him, trying to put on a mask of composure.

"It's a wonder you allowed it at all," the Black Reaper snarled. "Very irrational for a Contractor." November 11 got to his feet.

"I suppose it's only the man in me," he said with a weak smile and a shrug. He looked down at Sora's battered, unconscious body. "What will happen to her?" The Reaper pointed to an armored medical team rushing into action with a stretcher.

"Let them care for her," he instructed the Briton. November 11 appeared hesitant, but the Reaper motioned for him to follow, and so he did.

"Where are you taking me? A private duel for your lover?" Hei rolled his eyes beneath his mask.

"Do I have to?" he asked angrily.

"Duel for her?" November 11 seriously pondered this question, then replied coolly, "Only if she can't make up her mind."

"You aren't the least bit funny! Not in a time like this."

"Noted."

The Black Reaper led November 11 to a room just down the corridor and around the corner from the small war that was coming to its end in casualties. Inside this room was a large, beastly fellow with fists so inflated with muscle that they looked otherworldly.

"Don't let his appearance fool you. He's a tired shape-shifter."

"This wouldn't be the elusive Inga, would it?"

"It is. Do with him what you will. I have all the information I need from him, and I'm convinced Sora has the rest." November 11 glared at the Reaper.

"That means that you'll take charge of the substance before we do!"

"The substance isn't the only crucial element to the project, and we have already claimed the other piece required to complete the effects. I had some advanced knowledge; it couldn't be helped."

"And so you're giving me this man because-?"

"He might serve MI6 some other purpose." November 11's quizzical stare was dissatisfied with this answer. "Thank you." With that, the Reaper left Inga at the mercy of the Briton, who couldn't suppress a laugh. _Thank you, huh? Quite the sentimental Contractor, that one._

Hei had acquired further valuable information from Inga, and per his instructions, he headed toward the control room. It was exactly as Inga had told him it would be, and he punched in the necessary code and information, then watched on the surveillance cameras as all of the Contractor's powers were subdued. They did not appear surprised, but instead irritated; it was the Public Security Division that couldn't make heads or tails of the development. They quickly began cuffing and locking away the rogue assassins one by one, climbing over corpses to do so. This unfortunate mess had been unavoidable.

The crusade to eliminate Contractor powers had entered its next phase of testing in the CA block – the building's foundation had been wired to a base similar to that which had been hidden in Miyabita Production House, and the prisoner's rations had been dosed with the drug necessary to complete the effects. The project was still flawed, especially after Inga had lost his most valuable test subject, but the preliminary steps had been taken, and though the effects were temporary, they were effective enough to use against the Contractors for the purpose of rounding them up without further deaths. The war was over for now.

Hei wanted to rush to Sora's side, but he knew he couldn't, not as the Reaper. And he was afraid to look at her. To see someone so beautiful and pure tainted with blood – there were not adequate words to describe the effect it was having on him. She had made it so far and still was seconds away from attempting suicide when he had found her. Why hadn't he been more forceful about her not being involved? And though November 11 had gotten closer than Hei would have preferred, his gratitude was still exponential.

He radioed the team without explanation, arranging for their disguised van to meet him behind the Special CA Block using more information from the secret blueprints Inga had surrendered to him. He was relieved to find that April and July were no longer with them, only those familiar faces he had grown to trust. Nobody spoke on the agonizing drive to the hospital, just stared hollowly out of the window as Hei changed from his stolen guard's uniform into his especially ordinary street clothes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Nobody say it. **

**One more chapter to go - it should be a lot easier to finish. Maybe Monday, otherwise Wednesday.**

**Posting notes on LJ now.**


	16. Better Off Forgotten

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: BETTER OFF FORGOTTEN**

Sora awoke in a room bleached white and decorated in clusters of flowers. She knew she was in a hospital though she had no recollection of traveling to one. Her last memory was of a sharp pain overwhelming her weakened body and of November 11 lying on top of her. She shot up in her bed. It was clear again what had happened to her. What she had done. She had not seen Hei but she knew he had electrocuted her to put her out of her misery. Slowly she allowed herself to lie back down, her body no longer in pain but entirely exhausted. An IV had been inserted into her arm, and a bag of clear fluids were being pumped into her body to hydrate it. She didn't see her jumpsuit anywhere about the room, but there was a duffel bag resting in a chair, presumably with clothes for her to wear home whenever she was released. And so, so many flowers. So many people had left flowers or get well cards, but it was all trite, diplomatic even. Her father was an influential figure; of course people would shower her with well-wishes as a social obligation. She did not feel the least bit consoled or loved, though the sight was quite lovely all the same.

Where was Hei? Or even her father? She just wanted a hug.

She located the button to call a nurse and pressed it, wanting to speak with normal people for a change. Normal, unassuming people who didn't have superhuman abilities.

"Ah, Sora," the nurse said jovially as she entered the room. "How are you feeling? Do you know where you are?"

"I'm… tired," Sora replied, sighing. "And I'm in a hospital. I'm coherent. I just want my father. Is he here?"

"He is," the nurse muttered, drawing Sora's chart as a doctor entered next. He was very thin and delicate, as though a stumbled to the floor would shatter him. His skin was still youthfully firm, but he was up in years with significantly graying hair. Hopefully that meant he was an experienced doctor.

"I'm Dr. Itamura. Do you remember what happened to you? They – the police – said you were accidentally caught in a warzone between the police and escaped convicts. They can't account for your injuries however…" Sora wasn't sure how much the Public Security Division had told the hospital staff, or how much they were allowed to know.

"I'm sorry?"

"It seems you were electrocuted," Itamura said coolly. "Do you remember?"

"I remember… hurting. Nothing else."

"Absolutely nothing else?"

"Nothing about being electrocuted, that is."

"I see."

"I had a nervous breakdown."

"We know. You were conscious when you arrived here, though entirely incoherent. At one point we had to tie you down to prevent you from harming yourself or the nurses."

"Will I have to go to therapy?"

"That is not for me to say," Itamura replied. "You were unconscious or otherwise unstable, and therefore no psychiatric evaluation could be performed. Now that you're awake and composed-"

"When can I see my father?" The doctor finally looked up from his clipboard and directly into her eyes.

"This situation is highly irregular," he told her bluntly. "I'm not comfortable treating patients who are not completely honest with me about their injuries. Apart from your being electrocuted by whatever mysterious means, you have no injuries and yet you came to us covered in blood. I'm not happy."

"I'm not happy either, doctor," Sora told him coldly.

"I only want to help you."

"Honestly, I'm not sure what you're _allowed_ to know. Do you understand?"

"That's why we kept everyone out of the room…" Itamura muttered. He didn't expect her to give him any further information though. "I'll send some of your waiting guests in, and I'll call for our psychiatrist as well." With that, he and the nurse excused themselves. Sora suddenly felt self-conscious. She probably wasn't a pretty sight, and things like that mattered to her in light of the two very special men she had in her life. She hoped Hei was okay and would make it to see her…

Kanbimura's commanding figure passed through the doorway first, followed by Misaki who was immediately banished to a corner by his dark gaze. Sora managed to sit up again, though it was more difficult this time, and she held out her hand to her father. He set a chair beside his daughter's bed, taking her hand to kiss as he sat down. Though he shed no tears, Sora could see them pool in his eyes. She shamelessly cupped her father's face in her hands and kissed his lips, then embraced him.

"Otousan-"

"Reckless!" he snarled in her ear, interrupting her. "I will never tire of telling you that this life, the life of a criminal, is _not_ for you."

"I know. But if you could only understand…"

"Make me understand, itoshigo." Sora left her father's arms and sat up to look at him, mildly surprised.

"I…can't." It was very astonishing to her, suddenly, that she really could not make him understand though she had wanted him to for so long. Now that he was willing to listen, she had nothing to tell him.

"I haven't seen Li yet either. I hope he knew that if he was having trouble getting a flight he could have called me."

"Really?" Sora asked cynically.

"He's my son-in-law," Kanbimura said rather aggressively. "The only thing I have to hold against him is that he's gone so often. And you…. He can't protect you when he's away. It's very hard for me to see you like this." In turn, it was hard to see her father so upset. She averted her gaze, which fell upon Misaki hiding in a corner.

"Can I help you, Misaki?"

"I'm sorry that I didn't protect you," Misaki blurted out, maintaining her composure still. She came forward hesitantly, unsure of how Kanbimura would respond, but when he did not stop her, she gained a little more confidence. "I neglected my duties as an officer."

"You don't have to be sorry," Sora told her sympathetically, ignoring her father's morose stare. Misaki did not appear comforted by her words, but assumed the diligent look of a policewoman and approached her bed.

"We have to discuss some things."

"Don't tell anyone about what happened, right?"

"It's… a little more complicated than that. This time, orders are coming from above me. Especially in light of your breakdown, use of ME has been forcefully suggested." Sora sighed. For some reason, it had not even occurred to her that talk of having her memory erased would surface again. And how far back would they go? Would she have to forget everything or just this mission? Her suicidal moment before Hei had electrocuted her? She couldn't help but feel that it would be cheating to simply forget everything that had happened to her because she had had a temporary lapse in judgment. The full weight of the lives she had ended had not completely come back to her, but even if at first she could not carry that burden alone, wouldn't she be a stronger person if she learned to do so with time? She had made a conscious decision to be a part of what took place there. She had to own it, didn't she?

"What do you think?" Sora asked Misaki.

"As an officer?"

"No, as a human. A woman."

"I think you'd at least require therapy but…" Misaki averted her gaze. It had not been a direct order, but it _was_ strongly suggested. She imagined her superiors would be happier if she finished this once and for all. It was unusual to allow a civilian her memories of so much violence and especially of so much government intelligence. Even so, Sora had been a key player in unmasking a threatening undercover operation and how it functioned. She couldn't ignore her hard work.

The door abruptly burst open, causing both Misaki and Kanbimura to bolt out of their seats. It was Li, grief-stricken and gasping for breath. He swiftly maneuvered past Misaki to Sora's bedside, practically launching himself at her and embracing her lovingly. A barrage of kisses followed so that Sora had to fight him off of her.  
>"I'm okay! I swear." Li still could hardly breathe, but he sat up straight at the edge of her bed scanning every inch of her body to be sure.<p>

"Nobody would tell me anything!" he exclaimed. "What happened to you? I was trying to make reservations when I got the call. I was expecting to come home to a nice dinner, not this…"

"I didn't mean to worry you," Sora mumbled guiltily. "Or anyone." Li began to calm down, looking about the room. It then occurred to him that Misaki and Kanbimura were in the room with them, and his face began to redden from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, you guys," he said sheepishly. "I guess I didn't see you there." Kanbimura rolled his eyes. He had to admit, at least to himself, that he was glad that Li could be with his wife in such despicable circumstances. But he still blamed the young man for much of what had happened. Why on earth couldn't he just stay home?

"It's been a long time," Misaki said so softly it was almost a whisper. It felt peculiar to see Li after so many years apart. Even more so than when she had first run into Sora at the convenience store. Something in him seemed more mature. Married life must have done that to him.

"We never seem to meet under good circumstances," Li agreed, looking to his father-in-law next. It would be troublesome to hint anymore that he and Misaki were quite familiar with each other. He was already walking on eggshells around Kanbimura. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Misaki wants to erase my memory again," Sora said quickly before she could even think her words through. Kanbimura crossed his arms over his chest. Li grew very somber.

"You don't want it," he concluded knowingly.

"You do?" Sora couldn't understand his change of attitude.

"It will all come back to you," Li said cryptically so that only Sora might understand. "And you'll never fully come to terms with it. Aren't you tired of knowing such dirty secrets?" Misaki frowned, as did Kanbimura. Sora had not expected this from Hei at all.

"I want everyone to leave." Everyone in the room hesitated. "Both of you, leave. Li, you stay." Misaki and Kanbimura reluctantly followed her orders, and once the door shut behind them, Sora turned a harsh glare on her husband.

"What are you saying?" she demanded.

"This is too much for you to bear," Hei said, maintaining his composure though in truth he wanted to scream at her. He wanted to cry because he could not protect her. And even when he had thought he was protecting her by putting her in the company of capable people, they had not protected her either and thus he had still failed. In fact, it was more than he himself could bear. He wanted his own memory erased. As the heated silence scorched the comfort of the room, he surrendered to his own grief and tears trickled down his face.

"Hei I… do remember. Everything. And even in this last hour it has been near impossible to pretend that I am not overwhelmed by what I have done. But I _am_ Yozora. I _am_ the Night Reaper. If I erase her, I will be only a shadow of myself."

"That isn't true," Hei said. "Yozora is a parasite. She has infected you and the goodness of your spirit. Sora – my Sora – is nothing like her."

"_That_ isn't true. People adapt and grow into who – what we need to be. It's not a transformation. I am a more developed version of myself now."

"I don't want to hear that from you."

"I understand you better now, too," Sora whispered. "Your grief, your fear... I've never seen you cry before, Hei."

"This part of me was not something I wanted you to understand!" Hei said, exasperated. It was all he could do not to yell at her. "Don't you get it? I hate myself. I regret everything I have done and not done." Sora's face contorted with confusion.

"What?"

"My only consolation was knowing that I had married you," Hei continued, his tone growing gentler. "That I had pursued one desire of my own! That I had managed to attain even a smidgeon of humanity. I didn't want you to know what my life was like! I didn't want you to see _me_ as a monster."

"How could I-"

"It's what you called yourself, isn't it? Or did I not hear you correctly?" Sora wasn't sure she remembered, but she did feel sullied by the blood she had spilled.

"But that has nothing to do with my perception of you," she tried. Hei turned his back to her in complete frustration.

"Yes it does," he told her. "If the lives you ended have made you a monster, then what am I?"

"You're different…"

"Why?"

"I… don't know."

"Is it because you've always known me this way? Why is it natural that I kill while the blood on your hands transforms you into something inhuman? Do you not see me as human?"

As long as Sora had known Hei, he had been an assassin wielding supernatural abilities. Perhaps she had taken it for granted, but because she was so familiar with his gentler, loving side, she had never held that against him. She had married him in light of all of it. Didn't he know that she loved him?

"You think that I love you in spite of yourself," Sora concluded. "That I ignore the parts about you that I don't like. You're wrong though." Hei slowly turned to look at her again.

"It's not enough for you to say that, Sora."

"I was a monster because I was senseless, fueled by adrenaline and instinct," his wife explained. "And you're not a monster because nothing you do is indiscriminate. While I fought alongside the Public Security Division and waged a war, you found a way to subdue them all at once without hurting anyone. You always find a third path." Hei sighed heavily and gestured for Sora to scoot over, which she did. He lay down beside her and she snuggled against him, her head resting on his chest.

"I can't be so noble," he said when he found the words. "I'm still a hired assassin."

"You can't get it right all the time," Sora said. "And I know you feel guilty when you can't. But you were the only one who…" She trailed off at the sudden realization of something.

"Sora?"

"November 11," she whispered. "He didn't kill anyone either." Hei didn't even want to think of the Briton now, even if Sora had a point in mentioning him.

"You know what he told me?" Sora asked, looking up at her husband. When he shrugged, she answered, "He told me that I was not a monster but a survivor. What do you think?" Hei stared up at the ceiling. He was sure that the MI6 agent was right. That hardly changed how he felt about Sora keeping her memories of what she had done, but he couldn't stand to argue with her anymore. Perhaps it would be wiser if they waited for a psychiatric evaluation first.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Probably my father. He can't stand suspense, you know." Hei rolled his eyes.

"Don't let him in," he begged, cupping his hand over her mouth. Sora giggled and tugged his hand away. "We can be alone for a little while longer. Isn't that what he's always harping on about when I don't come home for long periods of time? Sora!" His wife rolled her eyes.

"Come in," she called. She gasped at seeing her latest visitor. It was not her father, as she had expected, but instead November 11. He had cleaned up and changed clothes, and even carried flowers and cranes.

"Sorry to interrupt," he announced grandly, looking about the room. "I went ahead and put these in a vase with water, but I see several people had the same idea."

"They aren't from anyone special," Sora told him. "Feel free to put yours wherever you'd like." November 11 did not hesitate in moving a dying bouquet to the floor to make room for the roses he had brought with him. He then approached her bed and hung the cranes from a chair.

"I wouldn't think of roses for a get-well bouquet…" Sora commented.

"I couldn't imagine any other flower in this room," the Contractor said, openly disapproving the other selections guests had sent.

"Can't resist, even in front of my husband," Sora teased, smiling lovingly at Hei. He wasn't nearly as amused.

"Fortunately, I know a Contractor who has no choice but to make these," he told Sora and Hei, referring to the cranes. "Is this still in tradition in this country?"

"It's just as well," Sora replied. "Thank you." November 11 then appeared, for all his confidence, to be displaced. He took a chair uncomfortably and looked about the room, avoiding Hei's skeptical eyes.

"It was kind of you to visit," Hei said dryly, sitting up. Sora too sat up, hoping the men would play nicely with each other. They were in a hospital after all.

"I didn't think it would be right not to call on you," November admitted. "Given the circumstances in which I left you, I mean. You're already quite yourself, I see." Sora shrugged.

"I suppose."

"Misaki confided in me that they're considering ME. I personally think you're stronger than that, though it's not up to me."

"Why would she tell you anything?" Hei asked. The Briton shrugged.

"You know, you two share a lot of similarities," Sora stated boldly, startling both men in her company. "But I think you know that already, hmm?" The Briton laughed. Hei remained silent.

"Your father is quite the mean-faced man," November said. "Should we let him back in?"

"It would be better if everyone left," an unfamiliar voice replied. They all faced another doctor – the psychiatrist. "I'd like to talk to Sora alone."

* * *

><p>Hei and November 11 sat in the lobby with Kanbimura and Misaki, divided. Li sat beside his father-in-law while November sat across from Li and beside Misaki. All four of them were scrutinizing each other.<p>

"The only thing stopping me from filing a complaint against your department is Sora," Kanbimura said suddenly. "I know she wouldn't want it. Quite frankly, if I ever see your face again it will be the first thing I do."

"Surest way to guarantee that doesn't happen is to allow us to erase Sora's memory," Misaki replied.

"What right do you have to take something like that away from a person?" Kanbimura scoffed. "Disgusting, this government. It's not like I have any say in the matter anyway; she's a grown woman."

"You could help Sora change her mind."

"We won't," Hei declared. Kanbimura had to agree, though he didn't much care to have Li speak for him. Misaki refrained from saying anything else and rubbed her temples. The four of them sat in silence for a time.

"Who is this clown?" Kanbimura asked Li, pointing to November 11. "To Sora, I mean."

"I guess he helped with...the assignment they were on." Kanbimura sighed heavily. He had no more questions.

"She never told me she was married," November 11 commented smugly. Hei knew immediately that he was just trying to irritate him. "I had hoped to steal her heart from the Reaper, and then you showed up."

"Annoying," Li muttered under his breath. Misaki couldn't believe November 11's audacity. Even if his goal was to get a reaction out of Li, wasn't he taking a risk in front of the woman's father?

"Relax, it was a joke."

* * *

><p>It always bothered Sora that no matter what, Hei always managed to wake up before her. She told him that she had fantasies of what their married life could be like – she would wake up before him so that she could make him breakfast and iron his clothes and kiss him goodbye before he walked out the door. But somehow, his internal clock was always even five minutes ahead of her. That morning was no different.<p>

Hei stretched lazily and started to slide out from under the covers when it occurred to him that he was always in such a rush to… where, exactly? He glanced over at Sora, sleeping so peacefully, and he thought to himself that all he wanted to do was snuggle against her. What held him back?

Sora released a tired moan and rolled over, facing him. Her mouth hung open just a little bit so that when she breathed a faint whistle was released. Looking at her, one would not imagine she had killed people. Her innocence was what had made him fall in love with her, wasn't it? However, Sora was a strong, independent woman as well. He couldn't ignore how much she had accomplished.

Sliding closer to her, he kissed her forehead. Immediately, she tucked her body against his and tangled their legs together. This was the life he wanted with her. A life of peace.

* * *

><p><em>"Hei, we need to talk." It was Mao, his expression decidedly somber despite his feline features. Hei was immediately suspicious; the cat's demeanor suggested their discussion would be unpleasant.<em>

_ "What is it? A new assignment already?"_

_ "Thank goodness, no," Mao replied. "It's about Sora, actually."_

_ "Of course it is."_

_ "I don't know how else to say this," the cat began hesitantly, "But the Syndicate wants her." Hei heart pounded angrily against his chest. He could hardly breathe._

_ "What?"_

_ "I-"_

_ "She's an ordinary human – a nobody! Why do they want her? She can't go undercover, her face is too well known. Have they lost their-"_

_ "They evaluated her performance, obviously," Mao explained. "It's not like we could keep that a secret. And though her nervous breakdown eliminates fieldwork, they think she'll be a valuable investigator."_

_ "Never."_

_ "They're threatening ME."_

_ "I _want_ her to have her memory erased! The Public Security Division wants her memory erased! That isn't a threat to me at all!"_

_ "Hei, try to be rational here." _

_ "What would you do if the woman you loved was being dragged into a world that could kill her? Mao, think about it!" Hei was standing up now and pacing. He was supposed to be meeting Kanbimura for lunch at any moment, and he could only imagine what their conversation would be like. That was more than enough stress for him to handle. This additional news was completely overwhelming him._

_ "I can't even begin to imagine how you feel," Mao muttered sympathetically. "How does Sora feel about having her memory erased?"_

_ "She hates the idea."_

_ "Can you see why?" Hei contemplated this question seriously before replying._

_ "I can, but I don't agree with what she tells me."_

_ "Which is what?"_

_ "That Yozora is a part of her now – a more developed version of herself," Hei answered. The thought disgusted him. "What do you think?"_

_ "I would say that Yozora is a part of Sora – an inner personality that came when she needed her in order to survive and accomplish what she set out to do which…. Granted, you more or less rescued her in the end, but the mission was a success and you were able to come home. I think that was her true goal, Hei. To bring you home. So ultimately she did accomplish what she set out to. Now, however, she does not need Yozora. She may never need her again." Hei took his seat and did not speak right away. He watched the trees sway in the light breeze and thought about what Mao had said. Yozora was not a more developed part of Sora, just a darker part of her that had surfaced because it was necessary then, but she had left. In fact, when the true Sora – the one that Hei knew and loved – found herself slipping away, becoming overwhelmed by the night, she had tried to kill Yozora. It was something Hei had not realized until that moment, and something Sora needed to realize about herself._

_ "What do you think about erasing Sora's memory?" Hei asked Mao. The cat was drawn away from cleaning himself, and he huddled closer to the ground at Hei's feet and thought about it._

_ "Perhaps there are things she ought to forget," Mao suggested frankly. "Not everything she knows, but maybe… what happened in the CA block. I think those deaths are what tore her apart, and things like that are _always_ better off forgotten."_

_ Hei looked up from the table and spotted Sora's father approaching. He had been surprised when he had arrived at this café to find that it was entirely ordinary – cheap, even. Mao stood and stretched, also recognizing Kanbimura, and started to slink off._

_ "Isn't this place pretty… bland for a guy like him?"_

_ Mao looked up at Hei, shocked. But he found that his companion was completely serious, and so he had to laugh. "He's being kind to you, Hei," he told him before breaking into a run. Li smiled weakly as he stood up to greet his father-in-law. He understood: he was expected to pay for lunch._

* * *

><p>"What are you thinking?" Sora asked Hei, peeling her eyes open to find her husband staring at her.<p>

"I just love you." His wife smiled brightly and kissed his cheek.

"Good!" she declared, jumping out of bed. She took to throwing off her pajamas immediately, after which she started combing her hair as she perused the closet. Hei was not as eager as she was, and he lay in bed admiring her. She looked back at him, frowningly intensely, her pink lips pouted. Her husband expected to be scolded for staring, so he calmly directly his attention to other uninteresting things about the room: the thick, navy blue curtains they had not yet opened up for the day, Sora's favorite photograph from their wedding hung up near the door, the chandelier Kanbimura had insisted upon though it did not suit the couple's taste at all…

"I don't know what to wear!" Sora complained.

"We've played this game before," Hei muttered with a sigh.

"Don't be like that."

"I'm quite pleased with what you're wearing now."

"Flirt," Sora muttered, turning back to the closet. Hei could only smile. "I have to wear clothes, Hei."

"No you don't."

"That's interesting," Sora commented, her eyes radiating devilishly. "So perhaps I went to get coffee like this – in just my panties. Would that be pleasing to you?" Just the thought made the Contractor feel especially protective of her.

"Only if you're getting coffee from the kitchen," he growled. Sora burst into laughter, turning her back to him once more. After snatching a few items off of their hangers and tossing them on the bed, she headed for the adjoining bathroom. Hei sighed and followed her.

"That was a hint, you know. I want you to stay in bed with me." Sora spat toothpaste into the sink.

"I would if I could." Hei waited for her to add to her statement, but no words followed. She continued brushing her teeth nonchalantly as he walked up behind her and began kissing her neck.

"You can do anything."

"No seriously, Hei. I can't."

"Why not?"

"How could you forget?" Sora asked exasperatedly, pushing her husband away from her and leaving him in the bathroom. Yet again he followed her.

"Can't you just tell me?!"

"Today's the day I meet with Kirihara," Sora replied, pulling a V-neck, navy blue T-shirt over her head. "To have some of my memories erased." She suddenly seemed quite sad.

"Are you scared at all? I should go with you!"

"I think November 11 is supposed to be there too," Sora said in a low voice, purposely slurring her words together.

"I'm getting dressed," Hei announced quickly, yanking clothes out of the closet.

"I think it will be okay," Sora muttered.

"I'm coming!"

"Not that Hei, I mean… having my memory erased. I think it will be okay." Hei paused to look at her. "Really. My father drew up a stern contract threatening lawsuits in language I don't even understand to make sure that I only forget about what happened in the CA block." Hei smiled.

"Yeah, he showed it to me. I couldn't make sense of any of it."

"So it will be okay."

"It will," Hei agreed. "I'm not totally happy, but…"

"That will be okay too, Hei," Sora told him confidently. She knew he was referring to the Syndicate's request. "It's only a temp job for big assignments, don't forget. They may never request me."

"Doesn't matter." Hei growled. He looked up at his wife, who was dressed already with a pencil skirt and heels. He knew she was strong, and that it was true she may never get called in to work. The Syndicate had left them no choice – they would either be pulled apart by amnesia or cooperate. So he would remember Sora's capability and try not to worry.

"Ready?" Hei nodded and held out his hand to her.

"Let's go."


End file.
